The Origins of Feyd
by NolaOakenshield30
Summary: The story of one greedy psychopath and his unrelenting desire to gain power through the servitude of a toymaker and his family, a clever pick-pocket,and The King himself. Enjoy.
1. Prologue

_The elf lord was dead._

_ Behind him, his young attendant that had journey deep into the woods with him, stood fidgeting nervously as he eyed the ones that had ensured his masters death. _

_The white haired, aged dwarf grunted, as he nudged the elf with his foot. "Let's bury him and be done with it," He ordered, "You two, go on ahead of us. Bul and I will stay behind with the attendant and make sure we're not followed." _

_They obeyed immediately; the two ordered ahead mounted their ponies and trotted out of sight while the old dwarf and the giddy younger one, began digging a grave for their victim. _

_"These elf lords aren't very bright, eh?" joked the youngest of the quartet of dwarves as he and his old leader finished their task, "This was too easy." _

_"Yes," mused the elder dwarf, "Too easy. I wonder…was it wise to kill him thus?" _

_The young, handsome dwarf laughed heartily. "Yer age is getting the better of yer instincts Kran!" He teased, "He was, after all, under the impression he was working with us!"_

_Kran, captain of the order of Feyd sighed, and wiped his hands on his breeches; "I've never, never thought one of Thranduil's own would divulge such secrets to us," He explained, "Thank Mahal that his information will be pleasing to Thror…and I will finally be free!" _

_The young dwarf, Bul, startled and chuckled nervously. "Free?" He asked, "What do ye mean sir?" _

_Kran sighed and looked over the young elf, whom still paced nervously, waiting for Kran to tell him what his own task was. _

_"I mean I have grown old and tired of this…work. I asked Thror to give me leave as the captain of Feyd and he has granted it." _

_Bul's eyes widened and, forgetting his training, he smiled widely; "So I am to succeed you?" _

_Kran sighed and looked over his shoulder at the frightened elf again; he leaned close to his companion and, placing a hand on his young comrades shoulder, said: "No. You will not take command." _

_Bul scoffed; utterly shocked. The rage began to grow inside of him but, as Kran had taught him long ago, he let his face betray his leader and he easily hid his true feelings. _

_"Who then?" He asked calmly, "Who is to be our leader after ye retire?"_

_Kran cleared his throat and shook his head. "Boheeka," He announced, "I know this hurts you m'boy but…you are too eager in your missions and, also, too hungry for personal power. Boheeka is calm and calculating and thinks more of others than him self. I had to make the right decision for all of us and, of course, our King. Do you understand?" _

_'__**Stupid fool!' **__Bul thought, struggling to maintain his façade of peace, '__**He'll destroy everything!'**_

_"I knew you would be distressed at this revelation," Kran said suddenly and softly, "That is why I decided to tell you first before I handed my responsibilities to Boheeka." _

_At hearing his long time comrade, Boheeka, had yet to be promoted, an idea formed in Bul's mind so quickly, that a wide smile spread across his handsome face. _

_"You are right," Bul sighed, "I am distressed but it will pass, sir; __**As-all-things-do**__!" _

_Kran was old and his reflexes had slowed; in a flash Bul had pulled his dagger and slid it across his leaders throat; enjoying the surprised yelp that preceded the panicked gurgling of his one time leader. Bul watched in complete satisfaction as Kran tried desperately to close his wound with trembling hands. _

_He watched as the old fool slowly dropped to his knees, all the while the old captain staring wide eyed, up at the young Feyd solider. _

_"I'll make us a power many will fear even above Thror's army," He said softly as Kran rolled onto his side and gulped his final breath._

_Hearing the whimper, and sighing as though he'd suffered a grand climax, Bul turned and eyed the frightened attendant that had slumped against a tree for support with gleaming eyes. _

_"My, my," He said with terrifying grin, "Ye killed my leader…that can't be abided now, can it?"_


	2. Chapter One: Saving a life for Profit

**_Several Years Later:_**

If there was such a thing as Hell, His grey-blue eyes surveying the horrors that stretched out before him, this was what it was.

Thorin sighed and fought back the tears in his eyes; heading to his tent for some solitude and if possible, peace.

_'Grandfather,'_ He thought sadly, _'I am so sorry I couldn't reach you in time. Forgive me.'_

He'd sent a party shortly before taking his leave from the smell and look of death. His beloved father, Thrain, couldn't be found. Not even amongst the piles of their dead.

Suddenly, he recognized the weight in his hand and looked down; a startled smile danced upon his lips when he realized he was still clinging to the thick oak branch.

"A fine shield that is," Balin had mused as he'd escorted Thorin back to his tent, "Who would have ever guessed, eh?"

At first, he wanted to toss the branch away, but upon admiring it further Thorin set it safely in a corner and after removing his armor, sat upon his cot and allowed him self to bury his face in his dirty hands.

He longed for rest and most of all to be rid of this place; however, there was little time to react when an Orc plunged savagely through the flaps of his tent and in a flash the filthy creature was upon him.

It's bloody and stinking hands gripped his throat and Thorin gagged; desperate for breath.

Using his knee he plunged it as hard as he could into the monsters side to no avail even though the sound of cracking ribs couldn't be ignored.

Stars danced before his eyes and Thorin clawed savagely at the Orcs face and especially its hands that were like vices on his throat.

Just as the world seemed to blur around him, just as soon as he thought he would soon join his grandfather, Thorin heard it.

The orc yelped, its grip loosening. The creatures black eyes dilated and Thorin felt his strength return. He quickly and violently shoved the scum off of him with ease.

Hacking and rubbing his throat he looked at where the Orc lay taking its last breath; "Nice try," He said hoarsely, and spit on the dying orc.

The creature stiffened and released; finally dead, Thorin kicked at it savagely and spit on it again.

"Alright there, my prince?"

Jerking his head up and his eyes wild, Thorin looked at the dwarf who stood at the opening of his tent; in his hand he held what appeared to be a simple flute.

"Who…w-who are you?" Thorin rasped, trying to ignore the pain in his throat as he spoke, "I have never seen you before."

The dwarf, wearing a tunic of crimson red, fastened with a gold inlayed black belt, smiled and bowed low.

"Forgive me if I've startled you," the dwarf offered with a low bow, "there was no time to warn you of the creature I spied lurking toward you tent."

"I said who are you?!" Thorin demanded harshly, "Where have you come from? How…how did you do this?"

The dwarf smirked and entered swiftly. Kneeling, he pulled the thin needle from the base of the exposed creature's neck and held it up for Thorin to see.

"My flute serves as an excellent dart launcher from time to time," the dwarf explained as Thorin took the needle and looked at it with an amazed expression, "Lucky for you, there was nothing covering his neck. Had I no choice but to aim elsewhere, the poison would have taken slower to course through his veins and finish him; before he finished you."

"Poison?" Thorin said, and handed the needle back to the oddly smiling dwarf, "What poison?"

The dwarf rose, ignoring Thorin's gaze. He sauntered over to a candle set upon a table laden with maps and stuck the tip of the needle into its flame for a few seconds. Satisfied he bent it and tossed it into the dirt.

"That should kill what ever is left," He explained, turning and facing the prince, "A very unusual toxin. Coagulates the blood I'm told; slowly stops circulation."

Thorin snorted and demanded: "Your name? Who are you?"

The dwarf smiled and bowed again. "Bul," He offered, "though I'm told I'm called Bul 'the handsome,' by several of the women residing now in the Blue Mountains. My kinsmen and I descended from this place. But we relocated to Erebor some years ago and have traveled with Durin's folk ever since."

Thorin inclined his head. Even by appearance, this was no dwarf of Durin's line. What was he? Whether a Brodbeam or stiffbeard, Thorin could not tell.

"We believe we're Broad beams," The dwarf interrupted with a smile, "But we've no solid proof of it."

Thorin's eyes widened but he found he could say nothing.

Chuckling, the dwarf stuck his thumbs into his belt and shrugged. "you inclined your head," He explained, "your eyes looked me over a time or two and your lips are tight. You were studying me. Trying to figure it out for your self. If you thought I was a threat, but if I were, you would have long called for you guards. Or am I wrong?"

Thorin clicked his tongue and shook his head. The realization of whom this dwarf truly was finally becoming clear to him.

"_Feyd_," Thorin said quietly, "But I thought the last of your order had long died away; In Erebor."

Bul shook his head. "No," He confessed, "But after we grew in power…eh, certain others became concerned and ordered us to disperse. We've only been...in forced retirement. Well, those of us whom still wish to keep the order alive and thriving that is."

Thorin sat back down on his cot, looking the dwarf, barely older than himself, up and down again. "My grandfather," He replied, "Years ago. He ordered Feyd to disband. When he felt there was no further need of you or your kind."

Bul sighed, hesitated a moment, then said: "We both know what happened to the poor fellow. In the halls of Erebor. His gold fever became too great. He didn't disband us simply because he began to fear a coup-ridiculous as that would be for us to do-he ordered us finished because he no longer wanted to pay us for our services to the crown."

Offense grew inside of Thorin but still, he found he could make no argument.

After a moment he nodded his head. "I should call for someone to come and take this thing"-_he kicked the dead orc again_-"away. Thank you, for saving my life."

Bul bowed again and turned to go, a satisfactory smile dancing on his lips.

"Wait," Thorin said suddenly and rose, "Such a feat of loyalty and bravery can't be ignored. Is there anything, anything I might do to repay this act?"

_'Good,'_ Bul thought, _'Very good.'_

The dwarf turned and after a moment, slowly nodded. "I'm glad to say my kinsmen and I have survived this battle unscathed. Save one. He's been terribly wounded. We're actually surprised the blow to his head did not finish him. Would it be…offensive if I asked if you would kindly send your physicians to see what they could do for him?"

Though he dare not admit to it, the Prince was impressed.

Most dwarves would have instantly asked for some kind of financial reward. But all Bul wanted was to ensure the safety and survival of his kin.

Thorin offered a firm hand on Bul's shoulder and nodded, walking the dwarf outside of his tent.

"How many of you are there?" Thorin asked, not breathing through his nose as the stench of death had become stronger.

"Eh…Just me and my two cousins. We're distantly related but we are close; one is called Bifur the other Boheeka. There were others but…we lost many in Erebor."

Sighing, Thorin nodded in comprehension. "You there!" He called to a young dwarf solider who quickly hurried over and awaited Thorin's order.

"Find another solider, and remove the dead Orc from my tent," Thorin explained, ignoring the dwarf's wide-eyed and shocked expression. "Oh! And while you go to find someone to help you," Thorin added, "Find Balin and have him send my best physician to help him-_he jutted a thumb at Bul_-"Go! Now!"

The young solider bowed and made his way off in search of help.

"I should be going," Bul said, "To see about Bifur."

Thorin nodded and let the older dwarf bow once more. As he went to leave, Bul stopped and turned to admire the prince once more.

"Interesting choice," He remarked, "That shield of an oak branch. I've heard some of the younger enforcements referring to you now as _Thorin Oakenshield_."

Thorin could not help but chuckle. "Indeed!" He said, and headed back inside his tent without a word.

As he made his way through the hoard of wounded and helping dwarves, a thin but satisfied smile danced on Bul's lips.


	3. Chapter 2: Alliances

**_Six Months Later:_**

When it had been confirmed that something was amiss, Thorin had sent for him and advised him to bring anyone else that was interested in what he knew he had to do.

Though his most trusted advisor, Balin, had protested, Thorin insisted that what he needed to have found out, had to be done discreetly so as not to cause any unnecessary friction.

They were, after all, honored guests in their adopted home, Ered Luin.

If the reigning steward, a fine young dwarf named Staric, got word that there was any activity that he found could risk his lordship, Thorin knew it would mean another exile for the dwarves of Erebor.

He had come not long after Thorin had sent him word, and entered the dining room of the large home Thorin shared with his family, with a proud flourish and a warm smile.

From where Thorin sat, Balin stood behind him, and looked at the three guests gravely.

"Your majesty!" Bul announced, before bowing and his companions followed suit, "I'm glad to see you are in good health!"

Thorin smiled softly and urged his company to rise as he did from his own seat.

"Thank you," Thorin offered, coming around the table and looking over the three males with calm curiosity, "I am quite well. This must be…Boheeka and…?"

The other dwarf, Boheeka, extended his arm to the much younger dwarf that resembled him greatly. "My eldest son," He explained, "A promising Feyd operative. His name is Bofur."

Thorin offered a soft smile. "I understand," He said as he placed his hands behind his back, "That you have more than just him in your household?"

Boheeka smiled and nodded. "Ah, yes," He confirmed, "Another boy and a girl; Bombur and Nola."

Thorin chuckled and gestured for the three of them to follow him. Just before exiting the dining hall, he held up his hand to Balin who, reluctantly, obeyed the silent order to remain behind.

"Have you any children, Bul?" Thorin asked as the three of them journeyed down a corridor aided by only torch light.

"No," Bul said, "For I have not really ever felt the need to take a wife. Not with things being as they are."

Thorin nodded as he mulled this over and continued to walk with the three of them in silence.

"How is your cousin? The one whom was injured at Moria?" Thorin asked as the three of them ascended some stone steps that led them through a door and out into a sun lit garden.

"Eh, fine my Lord," Bul offered gently, "He's made stupendous progress. But unfortunately, he is still unable to speak any other language but Khuzdul. If not that, Boheeka and Bofur have taken it upon themselves to teach him some signs."

Thorin turned and looked at Boheeka whom offered only the faintest of smiles while the young dwarf Bofur, eyed him curiously.

"I thought of you, given what Bul has told me, as only a toy maker," He remarked, "Obviously you are much more! Who would have thought you were a teacher as well?"

Boheeka laughed and shrugged. "I am," He explained, "What I need to be, given the occasion."

When they had come to sit inside a grand gazebo, Thorin decided to confess his reason for calling them.

"I need a favor which, if I am correct, only you can be entrusted with."

Bul pulled a pipe from inside his tunic and waited for Thorin to continue while Boheeka seemed to become uncomfortable.

Bul lit his pipe and offered a smile as he inhaled his first puff of smoke. "O'course!" He offered, "There's only the small matter of…compensation for our aide. And also a wee bit more of information on the matter would help."

"Such as," Boheeka added without letting Thorin speak, "If you've a clear idea on who might be a threat, where they are, and what exactly it is you need us to do."

Thorin studied Boheeka and took into deep thought all his questions before saying: "I have…an inclination, into whom might be a threat," He confessed, and after seeing the interested stares of his guests, said: "He a diplomat from the Iron Hills apparently. I find it quite odd he seems to only come to speak to Staric and not I. Especially since Dain and I have been, unfortunately, at odds ever since the Moria battle."

Bul chuckled and inhaled from pipe as he thought this over while Boheeka's eye's widened and he scratched at his long beard nervously.

"A diplomat?" Bul inquired, as he exhaled a cloud of smoke from his mouth, "From the Iron Hills? So you think, with Dain and yer self still at odds, that there is something about to happen to you and your personal standing?"

"How can Ye be certain?" Boheeka asked, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose, "Other envoys have come to only speak with Staric and not you and you've never had a problem with that until now."

"I know about it, Pa!" Bofur explained, looking from his father to Thorin, "It's been said fer a while now that after the Orc wars in Moria were done and over with, tha' people, even Dain, been lookin' to see if they can exploit our losses fer their own gain."

_"That-people-HAVE-been-looking,"_ Boheeka corrected, and lightly punched his son in his arm, "You knew about this, yet said nothing?"

Bul, his eyes suddenly narrow and burning into Bofur, gnawed the tip of his pipe slowly and waited for Bofur to answer.

"W-well, it's just gossip around the pond ye know," Bofur explained, scratching at the beginnings of a meager beard, "'sides, people wonder if Thorin can ever get back the power he once had."

Bul moaned and shook his; "Ye would do well to teach that boy of yours to not speak so bluntly," He said with a sigh, "Especially in present company."

Bofur's cheeks reddened and he looked desperately at his father who bowed his head toward Thorin.

"Forgive him," Boheeka offered, "My son can be tactless at times when he shouldn't be."

Thorin waved his hand and gave a smirk; "I know the fears of my people," He explained, "Their fears are my own and given what has been reported to me by Balin, I cannot help but wonder if some wish to asses my weaknesses here. Gossip or not, the arrival of the diplomat troubles me greatly especially since Dain was displeased that his aide in the war with the Orcs was not more…graciously honored."

Bul mewled and puffed on his pipe again; "Has he, this diplomat, made a request for an audience?" He asked, and Thorin shook his head.

"Only with the Steward thus far," Thorin breathed softly; looking over his shoulder to be sure no one heard, "Regardless of what Boheeka said earlier, Dain has alway sent his diplomats to me in the pat if only to put on a pretense of remaing patient and on friendly terms. He's already been here a week."

"Ye think the Steward might…uh…do ye suspect the steward to be involved in any said attempt to take whatever power you have?" Asked Bofur meekly, trying to ignore the flustered expression of Bul.

"Yes," Thorin sighed, "I've never had any animosity toward that fellow but…the wealth of the Blue mountains has begun to pick up ever since we arrived here and also I am still in good standing with the other dwarf kingdoms in Middle Earth."

Boheeka hummed and shook his head. "Too risky," He explained, ignoring Thorin's disappointed stare; the King also noticed the obvious relief in Bofur's eyes as he nodded in agreement with his father's conclusion.

"How so?" Bul mused, looking quite amazed and waiting for his kinsman to explain further.

"The steward and a diplomat from the Iron Hills," Boheeka pointed out, "There are and will be guards around them, which will obviously outnumber us. Let's not forget also, if it should arise that you"-_Boheeka nodded at Thorin_-"had anything to do with…whatever it is you want us to do, it could diminish your standing with not only the Iron Hills but the rest of the dwarven kingdoms that still thrive and quite honestly, you've lost much already."

Thorin thought this over before offering Boheeka a soft, confident smile, and said: "I have lost much already, yes that's true. But it could also be just what I need.

As you have said, and as you know, I am without a kingdom and in exile. So my enemies, even my allies it seems, think I can be easily manipulated or worse, stripped completely of who I am and all that I was born to. However if it is found that I am in fact being threatened and am able to meet those challenges with success…" He trailed off; finishing the sentence with a wave of his large hand.

Bul chuckled and finished his pipe, setting it aside; He was exhilarated at the king's insistence and finally nudged his kinsman with his elbow.

"We accept!" He chuckled, paying no mind to the worried and flustered glances of his kinsmen, "If only to serve the King! Give us about...oh, a week to prepare if Ye please."


	4. Chapter 3: Plans and Promises

"Ye miserable little chatter-box, ye almost cost us the job!"

Before Boheeka could react, Bul cracked his eldest son across the cheek and pinned him against a wall in the den of their home.

A thin line of blood tricked from the corner of Bofur's tight-lipped mouth, yet not tears sprang to his eyes; though he had felt a tooth crack the instant the blow had landed across his face.

"He has done no such thing!" Boheeka growled, "Release him! NOW!"

"He humiliated the king," Bul explained flatly as he stepped back from Bofur, "How many times must I re-remind you and him that excessive talking~"

"Can ruin an opportunity and possibly mean your death," Mocked Boheeka, "and it wasn't you who taught me that. It was Kran, remember?"

"_Mahal_, help me," He moaned fingering his long black blade, "I do miss the good old days. What are we now? I swear I'm the only professional amongst a band of rag-tag, blundering, and sentimental nincompoops."

"Ye still got the job," Bofur protested, "and Thorin wasn't humiliated at all if ye recall it as clearly as I do."

"You would do well," Bul breathed through clenched teeth, "To not repeat yer actions regardless. I'm trying to build _Feyd_ back up to where it once stood amongst our people!"

"And that would be," Boheeka explained, "A group so despised amongst our people that we faced constant degradation and animosity from those who knew what we truly were! Killers! Murderers for his majesty, King Thror."

Bul turned his burning eyes on his oldest, and only surviving comrade, "Then by all means," He breathed, "Take you and yours and leave. But uh- you mentioned animosity earlier- What do you think will happen if you run into a family member or shamed aristocrat whose still sore over…ye know?"

Boheeka sighed and crossed his arms; having no argument as to what Bul had just pointed out. The images of his haunting past swam in his mind then and caused him to bow his head and wait for Bul to continue but not before ordering Bofur out of the room.

"Check on your mother, then when you've helped with preparing supper, please send Nola to us please."

"Why?" Bofur asked, hesitating in his steps, "What's going on?"

Boheeka lifted his head and stared hard at his eldest child. "Go," He ordered, "It's time for her medicine."

Bofur eyed his father, then Bul suspiciously before stomping out of the den and leaving the two in tense silence.

"He'll be one of the best," Bul finally offered, sticking his thumbs into his fancy, black leather belt, "If he minds his tendency to run that mouth o' his. Ye should be proud."

Boheeka snorted and went to sit in a worn arm chair; "Why?" He asked staring into the roaring fire place, "I've condemned him to a life of death and judgement. This is not the life I want for him. Or my own daughter!"

"He made his own choice when he came of age," Bul explained, "So will Nola. Come now, cousin, ye had many an opportunity to ask to be discharged by Thror years ago, Kran wouldn't have stopped ye either, but ye never did. Even with the all that judgement and hatred ye speak of; which isn't entirely true."

Boheeka looked at Bul with wide eyes while the latter dwarf continued to observe him with a soft smile.

Boheeka asked: "How can you even say that? We were hated by our own kind because we killed own kind! We might be dwarves but to kill our own kind for profit…even me own wife suffered the consequences!"

"They feared us," Bul corrected, "For good reason. We, _Feyd_ operatives, were like the great eagles once. We swooped in, without word, under orders from those whom employed us and left a wave of such defeat and destruction…we helped the line of Durin to endure in Erebor up until Smaug.

And, it's a descendent of Durin that calls upon us once more. I know ye wish we had no need of your son or daughter. But yer wife is dying and your toy making skills don't fetch in enough profit for the medicine she desperately needs to ease her pain. Am I correct in understanding, also, that her remedies are running low and that ye are behind on the rent?"

Boheeka sighed and turned to stare into the flames dancing in the hearth, saying nothing as he took in Bul's words.

"Promise me,' He whispered so softly that Bul scarcely caught his words, "That if at any time…that if my children should demand to be discharged…you will allow it without argument."

Bul, hesitating only a moment, slowly nodded his head; "I promise," He lied, "If it will ease your troubles. After all we should only keep, always keep, our minds on one single task at a time."

"Father, Bofur said ye needed to see me?" announced at voice in the door way; Boheeka rose and ushered the young dwarf woman to enter while Bul went about setting up his pipe to smoke once more.

Nola, whose coming of age birthday had passed only two month ago, was turning into quite a beauty, Bul observed as he lit his pipe.

Though her body was firm and strong, she wasn't obese. Her hair, auburn, accented her fierce green eyes and olive skin.

Her hands and feet were small and delicate and, Bul secretly confessed, he often admired her hour glass figure greatly.

Bul had wondered about her potential as far back as when she was a toddler and capable of wresting her older brother, Bombur of all people, to a stand still when they played around.

Like her oldest brother and parents, she was a fighter with a sharp mind and an inclination to fierce loyalty.

Hopefully, Bul prayed, his plans for her would come to fruition over time. For now there were issues at hand he knew he needed to deal with quickly.

There was much to be done but for now, Bul couldn't help but wonder what he was going to do about Boheeka. Fatherhood had changed him; weakened him in a such a way, Bul knew, all that he desired could be wrenched from him again; as it had been years ago by Thror.

Reconciling what he knew he had to do, he offered Boheeka's young daughter a smile. "Do come an' sit lass!" He offered, gesturing toward another arm chair adjacent to her father, "I-We've a question to ask ye."


	5. Chapter 4: Proving their worth

It had been a success. Not long after they had been dispatched, in three quick days they'd captured him and now he was before Thorin on his knees quivering like a child.

Bul, Boheeka, Bofur and to Thorin's surprise, a young woman stood just behind their captured prey.

Thorin observed the four of them in silence; quietly astonished at how well it had all gone.

Still, unable to contain his curiosity, Thorin decided to first ask: "Who is she?"

Boheeka offered a nervous smile and replied; "Forgive me," He offered, "This is my daughter and youngest child, Nola."

"A woman?" Thorin asked. The look of surprise that spread on his face caused Bul to chuckle, "You used a woman? A child?"

"I'm no child, sir," Nola corrected flatly, "I'm of age and my father requested my assistance in the task you gave them a week ago."

"But we would understand," Bofur spoke suddenly, "If ye would prefer we not use her in future deployments. If ye have any more need of us after today that is."

Bul's eyes narrowed and when he moved to speak, Thorin approached Nola, eyeing her deeply and circling her.

"Our women are few," Thorin explained as he reached out to take Nola's chin but she pulled away stiffly, ignoring Bul's disapproving grunt.

"I doubt I will ever marry," Nola countered, "My family needs whatever finances I can provide. _Feyd_ seems the only logical choice. I know the risks of this choice, therefore marriage would be redundant. Other willing dwarf women can see to the responsibilities of populating our race."

"Fergive her," Bul offered to Thorin whom was still staring curiously at Nola who eyed the dwarf King with just as much curiosity, "She's a bit argumentative when her worth is questioned."

"I don't doubt her worth," Thorin pointed out, "I just wonder if it is wise to put such a…rare and young dwarf in harms way. What skills does her posses that no male would?"

Bul chuckled, "That should be obvious," he replied, and to his secret contentment, Thorin jerked his head at him and barked: "Don't think to speak in such a way in front of Lady! And I do hope…"

Thorin stopped and looked at Nola again who was glaring at Bul with just as much anger in her eyes as her father and brother.

"Nola operates as we do," Bul calmly assured the king, "what I meant to say is that the simple fact that she is a girl is her- _our_- biggest asset. Why, she's the one that caught this little bugger here!"

The dwarves cast their eyes down at the cowering dwarf before them and while Boheeka nodded in the affirmative Bul said with a smirk: "Would ye believe he was more 'n happy to brag about his business here to her?"

Thorin smirked; "Not really," He admitted and offered Nola an innocent smile before asking: "How did you manage it?"

Ignoring the compliment, Nola shrugged; "Charm and ale," She admitted, "He frequented the tavern and Bul had me stand in as a tavern maid. It took some time but Bofur made his acquaintance and got him drunk, gullible enough, for me to lead him away from the tavern and to my father and Bul whom took him into custody."

"A fault amongst the high class," Bul explained, "Especially when they're young. Arrogance can be a great weapon at times. He was putty in Nola's delicate hands."

Thorin glowered down at the dwarf, younger than he, and was silently satisfied that he would not meet his eyes.

"Your name?" Thorin asked, and the young dwarf said nothing for a moment; not until Bul kicked him hard with a twisted smile.

Bofur winced, yet remained silent and stiff beside his father.

"Torias!" Gasped the trembling fellow in a dry voice, "F-from the Iron Hills!"

Thorin's eyes widened and a deep sadness settled deep within his heart; "Rise," He ordered the frightened diplomat, "Get up! I will not harm you."

As the dwarf obeyed, Bul cleared his throat and said: "Apparently he was sent to work out terms with the Steward on behalf of Ironfoot." Bul began to explain as he pulled from his red tunic a rolled parchment, "Terms first presented to Dain by Staric, months ago when Dain had come for a visit~"

"Then…Dain isn't the instigator?" Thorin asked, beginning to feel relieved, "His only part in this was considering to aid Staric in whatever _he_ meant to do?"

Bul smirked and slapped the scroll into his free hand as he thought about how to answer the king's question.

"It would seem so," He finally announced, "At present your concern should be more focused on the Steward…however, I wouldn't just dismiss Dain's part in this so easily. Not just yet."

"Agreed. The message, here, seems to indicate Dain is someone you shouldn't so easily dismiss as a potential threat," Boheeka further explained when he noticed Thorin's confused expression.

"It's true," Bul went on, "That Dain was and is still uncertain on whether or not to ally himself to Staric. Possibly due to the fact that, regardless of his unhappiness from lack of monetary fulfillment he still, obviously, does bear loyalty to you. But, according, to this scroll, he would have been willing to help Staric if his requests in this scroll had been fulfilled. That's why this little brat here, was not only sent to meet with Staric, but to also try and find out just how vulnerable you are now. He, Dain, needed to know if it was at all worth it."

Thorin snuffed and turned his back to the group; wishing Balin was present, as he was completely confused as what to do with all that had just been revealed to him.

"What were Dain's requests? What exactly was Staric hoping to obtain…or destroy?" The King asked softly, though he felt he already knew the answer.

"They both hoped to obtain more than ye promised either of them, o'course," Bul answered quickly, "With the two of them allied against you, it promised profit, strength of arms, and…the kingdom Erebor."

Thorin spun, his eyes flaring intensely, "Erebor?" He barked, "You mean the treasure left behind don't you?"

Bul nodded slowly; "With yer power diminished, due to a combined force of their armies, they would steal your claim to the throne. Truly make ye no one, and then more n' likely head for Erebor when they were ready and, if they succeeded, divide the treasure between themselves."

Thorin crossed his arms and began to tap his chin again with a tight fist.

"Release him," The king ordered finally, looking over at their captured spy, "Send him home to Ironfoot."

Bul, forgetting himself, scoffed and barked: "That the stupidest thing I've ever heard!"

Boheeka and his children glanced wide eyed at his comrade then at Thorin, all of them stepping back when the horrid tension between Bul and the King weighed down upon them all.

"Bul," Boheeka warned, "We should follow his orders!"

"Yes," Thorin agreed, staring hard at Bul who stared with unnatural savagery at the diplomat, "Doing what you think we should, could result in something that I don't care to deal with right now. Sending him to Dain will cause my cousin to step back and look over everything that has occurred. It will also serve as a warning that while I am…vulnerable…I am still strong and my hand upon _my_ rightful claim is still secure. Also…I'm sure you'll understand when I say I've more reason to worry about spiders in my bed rather than snakes in the garden at the moment."

"Very well," Bul conceded, "I see what ye are on about."

Thorin blinked and looked at the at the dwarves before him, the small group of Feyd operatives, and thought himself quite fortunate for having adopted the group as his eyes, ears, and even his unrelenting fist.

"Then it's settled," Thorin said before turning and pointing a thick finger at the unwelcome guest.

"Return to the Iron Hills," He ordered, "Tell him I will not tolerate his acts and any further attempts at betrayal will result in some…rather distasteful actions on my part."

Thorin nodded to the dwarves that stood before them and smirked.

"I have the means," He explained keeping his eyes steady, "Go. Now and don't ever return."

Watching Torias sprint from his sight, Thorin turned his anger to Bul, whom was fiddling with his long braid again; a look of what Thorin suspected with a pang of shock was one of insatiable hunger.

"Don't ever think to speak to me in that way-again!" He spat, ignoring the wavering feeling Bul's expression had given him.

Bul bowed low and said: "Forgive me, I was thinking only of your welfare."

Thorin hummed, studying Bul who'd come out of the bow, yet said nothing; looking at Boheeka he extended his arm: "Take your children home," He ordered, "Then return with Bul as soon as you can. We are far from concluding this meeting tonight."

Bul watched with great interest as Thorin's eyes softened when they observed Nola curiously as she quietly left the dining room with her brother and father.


	6. Chapter 5: Tantrums & Tactics

"BIFUR CALM YER SELF!"

Moaning and stopping behind the three that hurried inside their small home, Bul waited in the door way and listened to the sounds of intermittent crashes while their demented kinsman ranted wildly in their ancient tongue.

Bombur, it seemed, had been trying unsuccessfully to calm him as they'd approached their meager domicile, his cries had been heard half a mile away; Bifur, from what Bul could make out, was screaming for his assailant to come forward and finish what he had started.

"Ye best get 'im under control lads!" Bul called from the door way, trying hard to hide the laugh in his tone, "Ye know the constable could show up otherwise after what happened the last time and Thorin wants us back soon!"

There came no reply to Bul's order, but he listened contently as the growls, grunts, and curses softened and then completely ceased.

Bul stepped in just as Bofur, his arm slung around his older cousins shoulders, swept past him.

"Thanks fer the help," quipped the young dwarf, "Can ye at least go an' help in the dinin' room? Bifur was flinging dinner ware about."

**Dinner ware? W-what do you mean? **Bifur asked, as he leaned his head on Bofur's shoulder, **Where am I?**

"Yer home," Bofur replied, trying hard to sound cheery and reassuring, "Let's get ye to bed fer some rest, eh?"

Rolling his eyes at the mushy scene, Bul made his way into the dining room and when he did, he could not help but let out a great guffaw and hold his belly as he laughed heartily at the scene.

"It isn't funny!" Nola snapped, wiping what would have been their evening meal from her second oldest brother's scalded face, "Bombur or Bifur could've really gotten hurt!"

"Tha's why I keep telling the lot ye to put 'im away somewhere where he can't hurt people you silly girl!"

"Enough of that!" Barked Boheeka, as he kneeled down on one knee and began picking up broken bits of plates and cups, "We don't abandon our own kin. Not when they're in need."

Bul snorted but before he could reply, a soft and weak voice could be heard calling out to Boheeka whom stopped what he was doing and froze.

"I'll go," Nola said and started to hurry toward her mother, the one who continued to call from the bedroom where she'd been laid up for quite some time.

"No," Boheeka sighed and rose, "I'll go. Get your brother cleaned up and Bul; help them get the dining room cleaned up."

Though he sneered, Bul nonetheless decided to appease Boheeka and went about clearing the dining area of debris while Nola went about spreading ointment about Bombur's swollen face.

"What did ye do this time to set him off, lad?" Bul asked as he set a chair up right, "Sneak up behind him? Drop a ladle? Or was it~"

"I was chopping vegetables in the kitchen," Bombur explained, flinching as Nola applied the last of the ointment to his burning face.

"Ah, that would do it," Bul affirmed with a smirk, "Boy I tell ye! How many times is it gonna take fer ye to realize that any sudden, violent noises can cause _this_ to happen?"

Nola sighed and shook her head as she put the jar of ointment in its place before turning her agitated face upon Bul.

"Leave him alone," She groaned, "Bifur has gotten better and his tantrums are less. At least this time he didn't bite anyone! How was Bombur to know Bifur would react to the sounds of the kitchen while he sat in here any ways?"

"Tha's neither here nor there," Bul countered, "That bloody axe has ruined him and so we should always be on our guard around him!"

"He is getting better!" Nola insisted, "Have you noticed his memory is getting better? He remembers Papa's name and mine now! Why even yesterday he was talking about Thorin!"

"He'll never get better," Bul said, his eyes full of mockery, "Ye would do well to surrender yer hope in this lest ye want to be disappointed."

"He's getting better," Nola pressed, "That's evident given that he remembers~"

"_HE REMEMBERS NOTHIN'!" _ Bul shrieked so wildly and shrilly, that both Nola and Bombur jumped.

"HERE!" shouted Bofur whom bounded into the dining room, "Keep yer damn voice down! Bifur and Ma are tryin' to rest!"

Bul bit his lip, his fingers tracing his long, black plait, and he nodded slowly. "Fergive me," He offered, "I just…just hate to see the lot of ye givin' so much hope to a…hopeless situation."

Bofur sniffed and jerked his head; "Da says you and 'im better head back to Thorin before it gets too late."

**PART TWO:**

"I cannot possibly consider it! Before we even came here I'd heard about how loved he was amongst the people of Ered Luin!"

Thorin sighed, slouching in his chair; as he twisted the mug in hands he muttered: "There must be another way!"

Bul clicked his tongue, disguising his agitation with a façade of calmness. "It really is," He gently explained, "The only choice ye have now. Now that ye released that Torias fellow…Staric might plan to…try another means of disposing of ye."

Thorin looked at the dwarf sharply then at his companion, Boheeka whom had remained silent the entire time his king and comrade bickered back and fourth.

"What if your idea, should I allow it, what do you think will happen if you fail?" Thorin demanded softly, "That would mean, as I have stated before, the dwarves of Erebor again would be homeless. Perhaps, if I go to Staric with what I now know, there might be a way to ensure the peace we've maintained continues to be strong."

"I agree," Boheeka announced, "Let's not forget, also, that we've built our lives here as well. If we were to be discovered, thrown out, what do you think would happen to my wife?"

Bul sighed and threw his hands up; "I see what the both of ye are saying," He replied, " But keep in mind, we didn't fail ye when it came to capturing and gathering information from Dain's lackey. I just think you're risking far too much by not considering what I suggest. Brutal as it is."

Thorin huffed and sipped the ale, barely tasting it, as he slipped deep in thought.

"Even if I allowed it, how do you know that Dain will not try to use it as a weapon against me?"

Bul smirked and leaned his head to the side as he observed Thorin for a moment; "Dain will ally with anyone that can help gain him more opportunity for power and profit. Also, if you give _Feyd _yer consent…what we do will give you more power, Dain will see this, and more 'n likely become desperate to stay on your good side. He should consider this after that Torias fellow returns to him to report his failings."

Thorin looked over at Boheeka; the dwarf was pulling at his beard, staring worriedly at Bul.

"What say you, Boheeka?" He asked, ignoring the offended look from Bul, "You seem the most troubled by all of this."

Boheeka sighed, bowed low to Thorin and confessed: "I see both the pros and cons of each suggested action. I cannot tell you what to do but, if I may speak honestly and freely, we should test one plan out and if it fails…we should make a strike with the other."

Thorin's lips parted slightly; His eyes brightened as he took in what Boheeka had suggested.

"Excellent," Bul announced with a laugh, "Your tactics have always been clever ones! So ye suggest we let Staric know that we know what he's been up to with Dain and…what then?"

"Yes," Thorin urged, "What do you suggest then?"

Boheeka cleared his throat and shifted from one foot to the other; "We wait," He explained, "We watch and if there is any sign that Staric-or Dain-still means to betray you to steal what is rightfully yours to claim… again. Then, if you wish it Thorin, we follow through with Bul's plan."

Bul hummed and shook his head, his fingers twisting his long, black braid. "Too risky," He insisted, "If we wait, if at any moment we let our guard down~"

"I agree with Boheeka," Thorin interjected, holding up a single finger in Bul's startled face, "We give it time."

Huffing Bul's shoulder's slunk and after casting an angry glare at Boheeka, he sighed: "As you wish, Thorin."

(Author's Note: Filler chapter...and a sneaky one that I hope entices other's to follow this fanfic to its conclusion :-) )


	7. Chapter 7: Terms with Staric

Staric, Steward of the Blue Mountains, sat with his stomach in knots in the dimly lit dining hall.

Twirling a strand of his orange-red hair, he sighed and strummed the fingers of his free hand upon the table at which he sat; waiting for news.

Torias, it had been reported, had vanished; gone without a word and, to investigate this, Staric had sent one of his pages to gather whatever information he could.

There was no relief to be felt, however, when the side door creaked open and the page stepped through, silent and with his head bowed.

"Well?" He demanded, sipping some wine from his goblet, "What have you to tell me?"

The page, his face hidden by a funny hat, replied softly: "Torias has, I'm afraid, left. He departed last night, actually."

Staric growled and violently threw his goblet at the page who quickly ducked it.

"He was to report back to me what he knew about Thorin Oakenshield before he departed!" Staric bellowed.

"B-begging your pardon sir," the page stammered, thumbing at his hat nervously, "But um it seems…well it was witnessed rather, that Torias was brought to Thorin's household the other night. After that, he left with no explanation, back to the Iron Hills."

Staric tensed, his eyes widening in horror, "Oh no," He breathed, slumping down into his chair, "Oh no, oh no, oh no!"

The page pressed his lips together and cleared his throat; "Yes," He confirmed, "It seems his…real reasons for being here were discovered by the king."

"King," Staric scoffed, "He's no_ king_. Not any more."

The page gulped and pressed: "He does apparently have some muscle. I'm told that the local jeweler, the dwarf called Bul, helped apprehend Torias when Thorin grew suspicious of him."

Staric drew a finger across his thin moustache and sighed; "I've heard stories," He explained, "From some of the exiled dwarves that He was once an assassin. Have you heard the same?"

The page hesitated before offering a quick nod. "_Feyd_," He explained, "An elite group of assassins for hire that are said to be exquisitely trained in the art of espionage and murder. This…Bul character is said to be one the most deadly operatives to ever to hold the rank of captain."

Staric's heart quickened and his face went pale; "We must send word to Dain!" He announced, jumping to his feet, "We must ask for his help!"

The page, his head still down, fidgeted for a moment or so before saying very delicately: "Begging your pardon, but I fear it will do no good."

Staric's shoulders dropped and he stared confusedly at the page; "What do you mean?"

To the young dwarf lord's amazement, the page chuckled.

"Because," The page answered, his voice suddenly changing tone and accent, "When Torias arrives back in the Iron Hills, Dain will know doubt seek to mend the rift between himself and his blood relative. Especially when he realize Thorin has the loyalty of _Feyd_."

Removing the hat and letting his long, shining black hair fall loosely to his waist, Bul offered the terrified steward an oddly warm smile.

"Ye played yer hand as best ye could, boy," Bul explained, "But Thorin is wee bit more intelligent than ye realized. I'm sure ye know that now."

Staric whimpered and fell back into his chair; "W-where is the page? What have you done with him?" He demanded.

Bul, while still eyeing the other Dwarf cautiously, pounded the door behind and almost instantly, the door swung open and the real page stumbled through clothed only in his under garments and followed calmly by Boheeka and Thorin Oakenshield.

"My lord!" Staric gasped as his eyes bounced between the four that were before him.

"Aye," Bul pointed out as he handed the hat to Boheeka whom placed atop his own head, "It's best ye start pleading with Thorin. Right now."

The humiliated page flinched when Bul eyed him coldly; Jerking his head Bul ordered: "Go. Tell no one of what has occurred. If ye do…I will find ye!"

The page nodded and, without acknowledging his pale and frightened lord, hurried from the dining hall.

"How could you have attempted such a thing?" Thorin demanded calmly as he approached slowly, "Did I not promise some reward to you for giving my self and my people safe haven for now? Have I not done well by you? Have we not, since we arrived, brought in more profit for the Blue Mountains?"

Staric coughed and offered a feeble shrug that caused Thorin to sneer at him coldly; "I knew you were young and impulsive" He said through clenched teeth, "but I would have never expected you to commit the acts of a coward. What threat was I to you?"

"None!" Staric protested, "It…with you gone and only your sister remaining I~"

"My sister?" Thorin asked, his head leaning and his eyes narrowing, "What about her?"

Boheeka sucked in his breath sharply while Bul couldn't help but break into a surprised chuckle.

"I-uh-I wouldn't 'ave told 'im that bit o' information lad!" He exclaimed just as Thorin leapt over the table with a growl and with his hands outstretched.

Staric cried out as he and the chair he sat in were knocked flat against the cobble stone floor; Thorin's large hands finding grip about the thin throat of the young steward, whose struggle against the more experienced and older dwarf, proved useless.

"MY SISTER!?" Thorin growled savagely as spittle sprayed from his mouth and splattered the other dwarf's face, "WHAT ABOUT HER CHILD? WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DONE TO MY NEPHEW THEN?!"

Boheeka had bounded around the table and though he tried, he couldn't pry Thorin's strong hands from Staric's throat; looking over at Bul, whom stood observing the scenario with utter amusement, he spat: "Help me damn it!"

Frowning, Bul made his way over and took Thorin by the shoulders as he explained calmly: "If ye kill 'im now, ye know it will only cause an issue you aren't capable of dealin' with right now."

Thorin grunted and, after observing how blue Staric's face had become, let go of him roughly.

Coughing and gasping for breath, the young steward stumbled to his feet and when he'd found a stable balance his wild and tear filled eyes observed the three of them.

"You're banished!" He declared hoarsely, "Out! Out of Ered Luin! NOW!"

Thorin attempted to lunge at Staric once more, only to be strong armed by Boheeka then who commanded: "Wait! Remember what you have planned! Calm yourself my lord!"

Bul hummed, stroking the whiskers of his chin as he did. Discarding the stolen robes he'd taken from the page earlier, He came to stand between Thorin and Staric.

"Agreed," He said as he looked between the two, "Thorin ye've more 'n proved that ye are still a force to be reckoned with even without a throne and Staric…ordering us from the Blue Mountains would be most unwise at this point; As I said, Dain will not help ye now."

Clearing his throat several times and after readjusting his disheveled clothing, the young dwarf lord asked: "How can you be sure?"

"Because," Thorin explained, "I have sent a message to Dain this night. I warned him that further attempts to usurp my rightful claim to Erebor will not be tolerated. If he, from this night on, remains an ally…when we're ready to take it back, I've promised him a larger portion of the gold that lies in the halls of my kingdom!"

Staric scoffed and rolled his shoulders; "Let me guess," He said with snarky tone, "You will make me the same offer? Even so, why should I allow you to remain here? How do I know you do not, or have not already, planned some kind of retaliation?"

Jerking free of Boheeka's grasp, Thorin came within inches of the dwarf lords red face and explained:

"Yes," Thorin admitted, "I promise you a share of the gold in Erebor. I also expect and hope you realize that when Dain receives the message I've sent this night, No doubt he will be more than willing to prove he is loyalty to me. With his armies, if you should provoke it, I will force you to abdicate and thus I will make a new home for my people."

Staric sniffed, rubbed his aching throat, and nodded his comprehension.

"I see," He confessed softly, "But, if I might ask, how can I trust you? You did just try to throttle me…you know I tried, or rather, was planned to steal your throne. How do I know this isn't just a pretense? That even with all that you've just explained and promised, you still secretly plan to take over ruler ship of Ered Luin?"

Reaching into his cloak, Thorin brought a large purse into Staric's sight and shook it; the jingle of coins echoed within the dining hall and the steward's eyes widened.

"More will come," Thorin promised, "there is still the fortune that lies within the halls of my home. Behave yourself, and I will honor my word."

"I would take it," Boheeka explained when he noticed the dwarf lord hesitate, "You're refusal could set about something _you-don't-want _considering even your own people find Thorin very appealing and, rumor has it, they think him a more...mature leader than you."

After glaring angrily at Boheeka, Staric exhaled deeply and with a shaky hand took the purse; ignoring Bul's triumphant gaze.

"Let us, wipe the slate clean?" Thorin offered, "I think that would be best for everyone."

"Aye," Bul agreed, "But it should be said, now that ye know that we know what ye tried to pull, don't doubt fer a moment that I or my kinsman here won't be watching ye. Just in case."

With that, the three dwarves bowed individually, and left the young dwarf lord to his racing thoughts.


	8. Chapter 8: Dining and Departures

For most of them, they were Thankful for the time of peace that came; Save for Bul whom grumbled often that he was bored and growing tired of returning to his other life as a jeweler.

Often his complaints were ignored by those who knew him except for when he was especially bitter, at which point Bifur would fly into a tizzy and threaten to thrash the dwarf whom laughed off the other's violent declarations, much to the annoyance of Bifur's relatives.

They had more pressing things to wonder over; most of all, Sahd.

Boheeka's dying wife and mother to his three worried children. Though they were all of age and ready to lead independent lives, their father could easily see their distress as the days of his wife grew darker and there was only one, final future meant for her.

What's more, Boheeka's heart ached when word came that while in the market place one day, Bofur and Nola had been the victims of many cruel insults by some whom had begun to hear rumors of their affiliation with _Feyd_; and he hated himself for it.

"They're strong willed," Bul had interjected when Boheeka had first come to him with this one concern, "They didn't and don't seemed troubled by it at all. Yer the one that seems the most distressed."

Boheeka sighed and set aside the toy he'd been painting and stared hard at the dwarf who, as always, held a curiously amused expression upon his face.

"I cannot allow this to happen again," Boheeka explained softly, watching as Bul's amusement turned into one of deep disappointment, then anger as he went on.

"Their mother is dying and they shouldn't have to worry about being harassed by others while they're grieving for her already. Also, they cannot have the lives they want, that I want for them, if they continue to affiliate themselves with _Feyd_; With You and I."

Bul snorted in disbelief; tugging hard on his long braid, he barked: "Did ye consider the grand lives they'll lead if they stay in service to Thorin?"

Boheeka sighed and hesitated; He took to painting the small toy again before confessing softly: "True, but I've already decided it. After Sahd has passed and Thorin gives us permission to do so…My family and I, We plan on leaving Ered Luin."

In a flash, Bul lunged forward; slapping the toy out of Boheeka's hand, he violently shook the dwarf by his shoulders.

"Ye didn't think take this up with me first?" He howled, "You treacherous fool! I'm the captain!"

Boheeka shoved Bul hard against the wall and pinned him; "My family's needs far outweighs any responsibility I have toward you!"

"Let go o' me ye damn silly fool!" Bul snapped, jerking loose of Boheeka, "Don't ye know how expensive this tunic is?"

For a long and tense moment of silence, the two of them eyed each other warily as they both struggled to calm their heated tempers.

"Fine," Bul conceded at last, "Very well then. I agreed to it me self long ago-about yer children I mean-and if it is yer desire to leave soon after yer wife is dead and buried I will…find another if I can, to help protect the king."

Boheeka sniffed and pulled at his long moustache; "Thank you," He offered; "Now if you will please leave…I've much to attend to at the moment."

"I as well," Bul remarked, though as he took his leave an insidious thought crossed his mind: _'Fer I'm not about to let ye take yer family from me just yet.' _

As he made his way back to his own toy shop, the captain of _feyd_ looked over at the Black Smiths shop that had long been occupied by Thorin, and stopped in his tracks.

"Oh," He breathed in utter satisfaction as a smile spread widely across his face and he forgot his dark feelings.

Nola stood talking quietly to Thorin whom held a pipe in one hand, and the young dwarf woman's hand, in his free one.

Bul watched as the two talked for a few minutes more before, to his silent glee, Thorin leaned and kissed Nola's cheek before she bowed and hurried away and out of sight.

**Part Two:**

When her eyes slowly opened, she found herself still within her bed surrounded by the warmth of the heavy blanket and fireplace that burned near by.

"Boheeka?" she asked quietly, and instantly found a warm hand upon her own, though she knew it not to be her husbands.

"Bofur," She sighed as she turned her head to offer a soft, weak smile to her eldest child, "When did your father take leave?"

Bofur squeezed his mother's hand and shrugged; "An hour or so ago," He replied, "Had to run o'er to the shop for somethin.'"

Sahd coughed, grimaced and uttered a groan; upon opening her eyes she found her child's own eyes studying her with fear and worry.

"'s alright darling," She offered, "It doesn't hurt so much. Not any more."

Tears pricked at Bofur's eyes and he bowed his head, strongly squeezing his mother's hand as he did.

"Don't be fearful," Sahd advised, "There is nothing to be afraid of. You'll need to be strong now for Bombur and Nola."

Bofur nodded yet said nothing as his mother's free hand came to rest atop Bofur's.

"Tell them I'll be watching," Sahd explained, "That I'm never far away."

"Mum…" Bofur sighed, tears falling from his eyes, "Don't talk like tha'."

Sahd smiled and lifted the hand that had lay upon her son's own, and gently caressed Bofur's damp cheek.

"I love you all."

In almost a blink of an eye, Sahd's hand dropped as she took a long inhale, and died.

**Part Three:**

"How can ye just keep stuffin' yer face like that?"

Bul, upon his third plate of food, sent by those wishing to offer condolences, looked at Bofur as he gulped loudly.

"It would be rude not to eat it," He pointed out, "Try some, I've never had such wonderful baked rabbit in all me life. Too bad we had no one else to bury today!"

Bofur scowled; "BASTARD!" He barked before attempting to storm out of the dining room; Bul rose and put out a hand to stop him.

"I'm sorry," the elder dwarf sighed after wiping his mouth, "I thought it would make ye laugh. Ye haven't been yer self since…well, I'm sorry."

Bofur pushed Bul's hand from his chest and sighed; "I need to go get Dad," He offered, "He's been gone~"

"Ach! Leave 'im will ye?" Bul interrupted, "He's just lost his wife after all and probably doesn't want the lot o' ye seeing 'im cry. 'sides, He and Sahd had been together fer some time before_ you_ were even born. Let 'im alone fer now."

Bul sat back down at the table and continued to dine; Leaving Bofur to worry for a moment more before he added:

"Bombur took Bifur for his walk and Nola…Her father allowed Thorin to take her for a walk by the river."

Bofur groaned, he hated when Bul did that; "I Wish Dad wouldn't be allowin' Thorin to escort sis around like that," He complained, "The kings well known to be a bit…flirtatious."

Bul chuckled and waved a finger in the air; "He's the king after all and I doubt yer father wants to offend him by disallowing him to see his daughter. Especially since Thorin footed the bill for yer mother's burial today.

Also, there's no need to worry as He has been seen _only_ with Nola for the past few weeks. Dare I suggest that the king has grown fond of yer sister?"

Bofur sighed and crossed his arms, choosing to stare out of the nearby window and avoid further debate with the oddly ravenous dwarf.

"Don't ye think ye should…at least save us some?" Bofur finally asked when he noticed Bul reach for a basket filled with various fruits.

Bul, smacking his lips, studied the young dwarf before releasing his grip on the basket handle.

"Sorry," He offered, wiping a napkin across his face, "If ye would like some of the rabbit, like I offered earlier I'd~"

"I think I'll go see about Dad," Bofur interrupted with an exasperated sigh, "Regardless of what you think...I'm startin' to worry."

Bul threw his hands impatiently; "If ye must! I'm gonna start on tha' puddin'!"


	9. Chapter 9: Falling In Love, Falling away

"I can't accept it! I simply cannot."

"And if I insist upon it?"

Nola sighed and observed the jewel that dangled before her; held just above her head, she took it delicately between her fingers.

"It reminds me or your eyes," Thorin explained as he lowered it, and was relieved she took it fully into her open palm.

"You've done much for us already," Nola softly protested, "I feel like I'm taking advantage of your kindness."

Thorin smiled softly; something, Nola secretly confessed, caused her heart to flutter.

"You have taken no advantage," the exiled king pointed out, and then he hesitated.

"Do you think I give this to you…to exploit you?"

Nola's cheeks burned; obviously the young king had heard of the rumors pertaining to his womanizing behavior.

"No," Nola said, a brief smile dancing nervously on her lips, "I just…it's rather expensive looking."

Thorin frowned; "I've more than enough to pay for twenty of those," He said coolly.

"That's not what I meant," Nola pointed out, "I just…don't think I'm worth it."

Thorin's hard expression softened and he watched as Nola set herself to the task of tying the necklace about her neck.

"Here," Thorin offered, "Let me."

He maneuvered his way around Nola and tied a secure knot while Nola twiddled with the pendant nervously; it did not surprise when Thorin moved her hair away and placed a gentle kiss on the nape of her neck.

"Thank You," She whispered as she turned to face him, her hands clasping behind Thorin's own neck while his strong hands held her waist.

"I think your worth it," He muttered quickly, and pressed his lips firmly against Nola's.

Forgetting her grief and feeling as though the earth below her had given away, Nola gave herself fully to the kings embrace.

Until she heard the lamenting cries in the distance.

Jumping apart, the two of them listened until Nola's hand clapped over her mouth in shock. Looking desperately at Thorin she gasped: "It's Bofur!"

Ignoring Thorin's protest, Nola broke into a run in the direction where her brother wailed.

"Bofur! Bofur where are you?" She cried as Thorin struggled to keep up with her. It wasn't until she caught sight of the decaying wooden fence, that Nola realized Bofur's cries came from the cemetery and she had a good idea where He was; mourning so deeply.

"Nola! Be careful!" Thorin urged as he helped her clamber over the fence, "and wait up will you?"

Ignoring him, desperate to find and help her eldest brother, Nola dashed between rows of the dead until she finally caught sight of him in the distance.

Bofur was down upon his knees cradling something, or rather someone in his lap; weeping and wailing hysterically.

"Oh…" Nola gasped, tears burning at her eyes, when she spied familiar boots upon the feet of the one Bofur held closely.

"No! No, no, no! Please!" She pleaded and though she began to make her way, Thorin caught her elbow roughly and pulled her back.

"Let me go," He said, "I bid you stay here."

"But Thorin~"

"Wait here!"

Nola, tears running down her cheeks, stared into the hard yet concerned glare of the dwarf king before giving an unsteady nod in compliance.

When Thorin approached Bofur, he knelt slowly; his large hand squeezing Bofur's shoulder and the two of them began to talk.

As she waited Nola looked into the distance at the two of them and then to the tree just to the left of them and she spotted the bit of cut rope.

It did not take her more than a minute to realize, with utter devastation, who it truly was Bofur clung to, and exactly what He had done.

Bofur, at Thorin's urging, had calmed himself and with the kings helping hands, staggered to his feet. Leaving the body behind as they began their slow trek back to where Nola waited.

Nola wanted nothing more than to be wrong as she looked at the body left behind, and then back at the two of them as they came within inches of her.

"Sis," Bofur started, but choked on a sob, He only took her tightly into his arms and while Thorin watched, the sibling wept deeply together as the sun dipped out of sight in the distance.


	10. Chapter 10: Decisions and Discoveries

_"IT-WAS-NOT-SUICIDE!"_

Bifur signed frantically, grunting as he did, before dropping his arms tiredly at his sides.

"Brother," Bombur interjected delicately, "Pa was devastated. He barely spoke after Mama died…I'm hurting as much as you but~"

"He wouldn't have!" Bofur protested savagely, twisting his father's hat in his hands.

"He loved us and knew we still needed him!"

Bombur sighed and tapped Bifur's wriggling hands to stop them from signing at the de facto head of their dwindling family.

"He loved Mama," Bombur muttered, "I'm no…operative but still…even I could see how deep his grief was."

Bofur threw a hand up at Bombur; "Ye know I'd rather just…stop all o' this fer now. 'Sides…Nola is tryin' to rest."

"Aye," Said a voice from the front door, "Right now, we must be as calm and clear minded as ever before."

Bul, Thorin behind him, entered the living room slowly; removing his cloak and tossing it upon a nearby couch, he sighed as he slowly looked between the three dwarves before him.

"We…we have a situation."

Thorin cleared his throat; "Where's Nola?" He asked softly, "How is she?"

Bofur's eyes narrowed and he looked the taller dwarf up and down. "Leave 'er alone," He warned, "She needs to be alone fer now. She's too grief stricken to answer yer call fer…company."

His blue-grey eyes flaring, Thorin stepped forward and hissed: "That's not what I meant Bofur! I meant only to make sure she was…dealing with the situation as best as she could!"

"Her family can keep an eye on 'er without any help from you, my lord!" Bofur spat as Bombur and Bifur began to step between the two of them.

"Please!" Bul barked, clapping his hands several times until all three dwarves stared at him wide-eyed.

When he was certain they were willing to listen, the captain of _Feyd_ sighed and held out his arm; with his hand clenched into a fist he explained: As I tried to say earlier, we've a situation. Bofur, yer right, Yer father didn't kill 'im self.

Bofur sniffed and nodded at Bombur and Bifur and the two of them exchanged nervous glances.

"Are you saying he was…that our father was murdered?" Bombur asked, "Who would do such a thing?"

**_Bofur cut him from a tree! _**Bifur pointed out in a short bark, **_Are you actually suggesting that someone staged it?_**

Bul smirked and twisting his fist, fingers up, he opened his hand slowly; "Aye," He replied, "And I know exactly who it was that had the nerve to do commit such an offense."

Bul slowly turned so that everyone could observe the small ornament in his large palm before he pocketed the evidence in his belt purse.

"What?" Bombur asked, "I don't get it."

Bul chucked and began to play with his braid casually; "Tha's why yer not an operative," He replied, ignoring the hurt expression upon the dwarf's chubby face.

"It might look like a simple braid bead lad, to you, but even Thorin recognizes the family symbol etched upon it."

Thorin hummed and nodded for a moment before saying: "I'm sorry…it seems the reason for your father's demise…is my entire fault."

Bul cleared his throat upon seeing the startled and confused expressions of those that stood waiting for further explanation.

"This bead only came from one dwarf given the sigil," He revealed, "The one we caught trying to pull a fast one on Thorin~"

"Staric?" Bofur asked in a tight voice, "Tha' idiot steward killed my father?"

Bul nodded slowly. "Well, possibly, really. Boheeka was one of the quickest and strongest dwarf's I've ever known; He was a coward when confronted and besides, Staric's a stringy fellow."

Before another word could be uttered, with a low growl, Bofur shoved past Bul and out of the door; ignoring protestations of those left behind.

Bofur made his way to their homes small, fenced in back yard and hurried to the decaying shed that rested in the farthest corner.

Ripping the padlock off with his bare hands and tossing it over his shoulder he stepped into the dark and ignored the strong stench of mold and dust that flooded his nostrils.

He spotted it almost instantly and took it by the handle before backing out of the shed slowly.

Bofur examined the mattock closely for any signs of ware and after being satisfied there were none, he began testing his ability to swing and move with its weight.

"So yer gonna avenge him?"

Without looking at the one whom stood watching him familiarize himself with his father's old tool, Bofur snapped: "What else is there to do? He killed me father! There's no tellin' what else he'll do!"

Bul cocked his head the side, arms behind his back, and said: "So, ye've the same suspicions as I then?"

Bofur, setting the mattock head down into the grass, studied the dwarf curiously. "I think," He replied, "He killed Dad because he's trying to get at Thorin again. If he killed Dad, then he'll go after anyone else whom stopped him the first time so when he makes another attempt on Thorin, no one can stop him."

"Very good," Bul offered, before the proud expression turned into one of dark seriousness.

"So then ye must see the reason for all o' us to be more cautious than ever before?" Bul asked as Bofur made a practice swing with his mattock, "Yer runnin' off to, obviously, bash the head of the steward in would be must unwise."

Bofur stopped and eyed the elder dwarf angrily before saying: "He killed our father! Are ye suggesting we do nothing?"

"O'course not!" Bul spat, then looked around to be sure no one had heard him raise his voice, "I'm suggestin' we wait is all. There's still much to found out; such as whom helped Staric kill your dad."

Bofur made to protest but, upon thinking through what Bul had just said, he nodded in agreement.

"Fine," He conceded, "So what do we do now?"

Bul, smiling as he did, gestured for Bofur to come with him.

"We start planning."

"Oy! Toymaker!"

Bofur barely managed to dodge the stone as it sailed over his head and crashed through a shop window.

"Stop that!" Bofur growled to face the one whom had thrown the stone, "Yer breaking windows ye fool!"

The dwarf, the son of a tailor, bounded forward and as Bofur's finger clasped the dagger at his belt, the other sneered and said: "What? Gonna kill one of your own kind?"

With that, the other dwarf revealed his own dagger.

Bofur snorted, his fingers tapping the hilt of his weapon, and with a smile replied: "Maybe, if ye insist on casting rocks me way and…shouting vulgarity at my sister like ye did the other day."

The other dwarf laughed heartily then, looking over his shoulder at his companions that had come to watch the exchange.

"What?" He asked again, "Everyone has seen her being escorted by Thorin, the great king of Erebor, I thought it more of a compliment than an insult to give her the title of whore."

The rage boiled over and Bofur pulled his dagger in a flash while the offensive dwarf did the same.

The crowd that had come cheered the dwarf that lunged and stabbed at Bofur whom easily dodged and countered each attack with swift movements that left some quietly impressed until there was a protesting cry heard above the wild crowd and a dwarf came into view just as he shoved his way into full view in front of the crowd.

"ENOUGH!" He bellowed, his red silk tunic partially unbuttoned and his long, black hair unbraided.

Bofur and the other dwarf ignored Bul's command and soon he found himself struggling between the two.

"Bofur!" He barked, "I said that-is-ENOUGH!"

Bofur dropped his blade and swung his fist; landing it squarely against the other dwarf's jaw before letting Bul pinned his arms at his sides.

"Ye damn fool!" Bul whispered, "I can't have ye thrown into the jail o'er some silly words!"

"They started it!" Bofur protested before Bul slapped him across the face, startling him into silence.

"Come on! I've an errand to run any ways!" Bul ordered as he tugged Bofur through the crowd that had gathered.

But Bofur and his leader had not gotten too far when they suddenly heard a rush of air, an odd thud, and blood curdling shriek; looking at each other momentarily, they both looked over their shoulders slowly.

The offensive dwarf stood with his mouth agape and his wide eyes were staring down at his foot; the dagger that had been thrown planted securely in his booted foot.

"What the…" Bul began but trailed off, his eyes a mixture of amazement and confusion, "Who…did any one see anythin'?"

His question went unanswered for a moment and as he and Bofur looked about both nervously and curiously, a voice suddenly answered:

"Please forgive me, but I saw that bloody child start to toss his own metal and uh, well, Bofur and I have been too close for me to just ignore an attempt on his own life."

Bofur gave a cry of joy as the figure, cloaked and hooded, pushed his way to him through the amazed crowd.

"Who in the hell is that?" Bul demanded, buttoning his shirt, "Bofur? You know this…this person?"

"Aye!" Bofur answered after giving the stranger a tight embrace; "Bul may I please introduce my good friend Nori. One of the brother's Ri."


	11. Chapter 11

As the trio made their way to their destination, Bofur and his old friend chatted as though the event just minutes ago had never occurred while Bul, walking behind the two, remained silent and observant.

"What brings ye back to the Blue Mountains?" Bofur finally asked, "Don't tell me ye got into another pickle again!"

Nori, his long hair in a single plait down his back, chuckled and shook his head; "Ori's birthday is a day from now. Thought I'd pop in and surprise the lad."

Bofur chuckled himself and lightly punched Nori's shoulder; "Not only are ye a sneaky thief, yer a loving' big brother!"

"And? What will ye be doin' after yer business here is done? If ye don't mind me askin' that is."

Bofur looked over his shoulder and cast Bul a suspicious glance; "Probably on his way back to…where have you been staying Nori?"

Nori shrugged haphazardly and muttered: "Here and there."

Before Bul could ask the question again, he noticed their desired stop and called for the two ahead of him to stop.

"Ah! Just in time! I see he's taken his lunch early!" Bul exclaimed merrily and bounded into the shop, ordering Bofur and Nori to follow him as he did.

"The apothecary?" Nori inquired, "Why are two stopping in here? Is someone sick? Eh…is-is your sister, Nol, alright?"

Bofur smirked; after all the long years spent apart, he realized, Nori still carried a torch for his youngest sibling.

"Aye," Bofur assured him, and relief instantly flooded into Nori's light blue eyes. "She's been doin' us proud. Thorin, the king, He's taken a fancy to her."

Nori's eyes, now empty, seemed to deepen. "Oh…" He sighed, "She…she's being courted?"

Bofur moved to speak but, knowing and seeing the deep hurt in his long-time friend's eyes, He offered only a shrug.

"Fer now," He said, "Ye know, or I'm sure ye've heard his liaisons don't last so long."

"Are the two of ye gonna stand around yapping all day?"

Bofur and Nori looked over at Bul who stood in the shops door; "C'mon! Yer wastin' precious time!"

Rolling his eyes and making a face at Nori, whom smiled in return, Bofur urged his friend to follow him inside.

The apothecary was as it always was; in disarray with bulging shelves containing medicines, herbs, knick-knacks, and other things Bofur couldn't identify as he instinctively began breathing through his mouth.

The apothecary smelled uncanny; a scent that still made Bofur's stomach churn, as it did when he was boy.

Judging by the soured expression of Nori, the scent also bothered his friend; Bul, however, seemed unaffected as he navigated his way to the back to find the one he'd come to speak with.

"The two of ye stay here, just in case," He ordered over his shoulder, "I'll be along shortly."

Coughing, Bofur groaned and leaned against the counter, offering Nori a smirk.

"Why exactly are the two of you here?" Nori inquired, "It must be important if Bul's willing to suffer the smell."

"Uh…" and Bofur pressed his lips together, hesitating and uncertain where to begin.

"Well…it's like this…Our parents, eh, me mum died~"

"Mahal…I'm sorry Bo!" Nori whispered shrilly, "Had I known I would've come sooner. How is your father holding up?"

"He's dead," Bofur said sharply, ignoring the wide eyed and shocked expression Nori gave him.

"Geez…" Nori sighed, "What the hell?"

Bofur squeezed his eyes shut; wondering just what he should reveal to the dwarf that stood waiting for him to explain.

"We think it's murder…I found 'im at our mother's burial site. F-Feyd ye see…it's well up and runnin' again. Me father and Bul…Me and even Nola~"

"What?!" Nori exclaimed, "You allowed your sister in?"

Bofur shushed Nori instantly, clapping his hand over the other's mouth, he jutted his head in the direction Bul had gone in.

"No," Bofur explained in a low voice, "She chose. At the time…we were in a bad way and Thorin promised to pay us for any services we rendered. Had I a say…I would've never allowed it."

Nori pushed Bofur's hand away; observing his friend with deep concern; "That's why that oaf tried to attack you?"

Bofur nodded and Nori's shoulders slumped; "Damn! Bo…stories of Feyd operating during the reign of Thror still exist today…some of the darkest tales I've heard…well, they involve that Bul fellow. I mean I've heard bad, bad, bad things about him! and I'm a thief and hoodlum ! What's more, from what I understand once you join~"

"Yer a target for constant harassment and alienation," Bofur finished with a sigh, "I know. Obviously, you know we're already feelin' some of that hatred. Funny isn't it? We dwarves are said to be some of the greediest and most selfish creatures any person could hope to meet yet~"

"That's not entirely what I meant!" Nori pointed out, "They say once you're in there aint any getting out of it! You and Nola should take your leave Before it's too late!"

Bofur pinched his nose and shook his head slowly; "Nori…I can't. I can't ask for leave. Not now; my father was murdered and I have to use what tools I have to find out who and why…I need my position in Feyd. Fer now any ways."

Before Nori could argue, the owner of the shop came bounding into sight looking frustrated, with Bul fast on his heels.

"I've told I do not carry such a thing. I've never even heard of a poison that has such effects!"

Bul looked just as flustered, struggling to re-braid his hairs as he continued to plead with the elder dwarf.

"I'm not talking about poison, not entirely!" He insisted, "Perhaps, in one of those dusty old books ye keep behind yer counter, surely, you could find something…any thing that would match the poison that killed Boheeka! I've heard certain medicines, sometimes, can be used for other things rather than their intended purpose. Are ye certain ye can think of~"

"Nope!" interrupted the shop owner impatiently.

"Poison?" Bofur and Nori spat in unison, "Bul…how…why didn't ye tell me?"

Bul, looking from Nori to Bofur, sighed and threw a hand up dismissively; "Slipped me mind."

"He could have very well poisoned himself!" the owner of the shop griped, "Over dosed himself-I don't know!-But I do know that I've nothing in my shop-nor have I ever-carried anything, pesticides or otherwise, that would have caused the discoloration and spotting you mentioned!"

"Spotting?" Bofur demanded, "What spotting? What discoloration?"

Bul shrugged; "I examined yer Da's body," He explained, "He hadn't…hung long. Rigor mortis had not yet set in, correct? Actually…you said he was still warm."

Bofur flinched; the promise of tears bit at the backs of his eyes and he looked down, struggling to regain his composure. Yet all he could muster was weak nod.

"When I examined the body-Bul ignored the sharp glare Bofur gave him-I noted how the palms of his hands had turned black. His feet and lips also had seemed to be discolored as well. Then there were the very tiny, hard to see, black spots under his finger nails.

and it's a poisoning. Probably by, well no, it was administered with a needle…somehow. I noticed the pin prick just behind his left ear. I just…have no idea what kind of poison was used. I, me self, 'ave never seen these after effects; which is why I'm trying to get the help of Master Oin, if he would just look-in-a-book!"

The old dwarf huffed and cleared his throat as he turned to the shelf behind him; he ran his finger down a shelf of several thick books before yanking one from it's spot and tossing it upon the counter, with a loud thud, in front of Bul whom completed his braid.

Bul looked at the cover, wiped some dust off with the thumb of his free hand, and sighed. His other hand delicately stroking his braid.

"Thank ye," He said to Oin whom sneered at his offer, "Is there…no other book you can lend?"

"We're goin' and gettin' no where!" Bofur protested impatiently, "All yer gonna find out-if anythin' is that more 'n likely someone gave Da' a massive dose of something that is usually used as a medicine but~"

"There's no need to look in the book. I know what it is."

All eyes turned and focused upon Nori whom looked at Bofur nervously;

"It's…common. The root of tree only found in the west. I think. It's used as a pain killer…well, in low doses that is."


	12. Chapter 12 Offers & Old Friends

"You know about poisons?" Bul inquired.

Bofur noticed the interested sheen that danced in the Feyd captain's coal black eyes, and deep discomfort settled within him.

"Well, yes," Nori replied, "I'm out in the wild a lot and I have to know what could kill or heal me. It's called the black rose by most. A bush with white blossoms that goes unnoticed most of the time. It's prized for its root. It's usually dried and when it does it turns black and gives off a distinctive aroma. It's most effective when introduced directly into someone's blood stream."

"Bo!" Bul chuckled, "Why didn't tell me yer friend was well versed in these matters?"

Bofur shrugged; "Slipped me mind," He said through clenched teeth, "Eh, Nori, didn't you uh…weren't ye goin' to see yer brother's?"

Bul chuckled and waved at them both; "Before you go" He started to say, "Have ye ever considered putting yer knowledge of poisons to…good use?"

Nori shrugged; "Not really," He replied, "Why?"

"Because he thinks ye would be an asset to…his cause," Bofur answered with sneer, "a means to earn Thorin's money more easily."

Nori arched an eyebrow. "You work for Thorin?"

Bul nodded; Oin made an impatient sound and Bul, without looking at the old pharmacist, said: "Aye, we'll be on our way then. I'll tell the lass, Nola, ye said hello."

As the three left the shop, they paused in the alley next to the apothecary.

"I'm sure Bofur has, even against my training, let ye know some things? What he's been doin' aside from toy making, am I correct?" Bul asked as he pulled his pipe out and opened his belt purse, "I-uh-can't help but ask if ye would be willing to…aide our cause and our King?"

Nori cleared his throat and looked over at Bofur who leaned against a wall and gave him shrug. "I told ye," He said, "It's really not all it's cracked up to be though, Nori and~"

"Bo," Bul interrupted, "Let Nori make his own decision."

"Sir," Nori said softly, "Yes Bofur has told me some things. Very little actually, but even so, I'm a criminal; besides that…I've heard of feyd from a very reliable source."

Bul chuckled; "who isn't a criminal in their own way? Also, it's not just yer knowledge of poisonous things that catches me interest; I noticed your talent with a dagger. The one, I'm sure, that's spun tales of feyd has refused my request for help- where weapons training is concerned. Ye might be able to help Bofur and Nola in that area. Their skills with weaponry aren't…up to par."

Nori hummed and looked over at Bofur whom said quickly: "Let 'im think about it fer a day or so," and He came to stand next to his friend.

"Fer now we're gonna head over to Nori's brother's café to say hello. Ye should head back over to the brothel as I'm sure the madam would like yer usual payment."

Bul gagged on his pipe and coughed out a cloud of smoke, much to Bofur's amusement; "Wa-watch what ye say!"

Bofur nudge Nori along and called over his shoulder: "See ye at home!"

I.

"What do you mean ye don't wish me to patronize yer whore house anymore?!"

The elderly, female dwarf recoiled from the snarling male for a moment, while the group of dwarf women under her employ cowered behind her.

"Th-this was the final straw," Stammered the old dwarf, "you…you scarred poor Karia for life!"

Bul, removing his fine hat, smoothed his sweat dampened hair and sighed; "I told ye," He countered, "That I have certain desires…and I paid ye well for the use of a willing partner."

The old matron snorted; "You'll be lucky if I don't ask the sheriff to look into this matter!" She threatened, "That poor girl, young as she is! You've completely ruined her! Besides that I didn't know you were…that sick!"

Bul's eyes narrowed; the look he cast toward the old dwarf caused her to take a few steps back when he shifted closer to her.

"Here," Bul hissed, thrusting a near-bursting purse at the dwarf woman, "What I owe…plus payment fer yer silence…and hers. Oh…and ye wouldn't make it to the sheriff, lass. I'd be quite sure o' that. Remember, after all, I am feyd!"

The matron moved to speak, but upon seeing the shining malice in Bul's eyes, she gave a curt nod.

"G'day!" He called over his shoulder with a merry laugh.

II.

"You aren't welcome here!" The elder dwarf spat, his cold blue eyes narrowing, "You've been gone far too long for me to forgive your absence…or your dishonorable lifestyle."

Nori shrugged off the accusing dwarf's protestations and sat himself at one of the café's tables.

"I've come to see Ori, not you," Nori pointed out, "Surely you won't deny him? After all he did wish I'd come and visit him. Really, Dori, would you upset him so close to his own birthday?"

Dori, the eldest of the popular Ri brother's, opened his mouth to speak but slowly closed it again and dropped his head.

Looking back up he said: "Come on in, Bofur, you might as well."

Bofur hesitated a moment, but when Dori gestured for him to follow his invitation, the dwarf came and sat across from Nori whom casually looked over the café.

Dori sighed again; "Sit there and I'll fetch us some food as well as Ori."

The elder dwarf disappeared into the kitchen; Leaving the two friends in silence for a moment.

"I wouldn't if I were you," Bofur said softly, "Yer already in enough trouble as it is I imagine. Ye shouldn't consider…Bul's invitation. And why would ye? Remember what ye had only just told me before we left Oin's shop?"

Nori offered Bofur a warm smile before replying: "Well, someone needs to keep the two of you safe. Besides, it'd give me a reason to stay in Ered Luin for a time."

"What for?" Dori asked as he appeared with a tray of food and tea, "You're only going to get into more trouble-ORI!"

Nori groaned; "Dori, please, can we at least pretend we've no bitterness between us? For Ori's sake?"

"Think of Ori," Bofur pointed out, "Think o' him and what it would do to him if ye do decided to join Feyd!"

"…what? What is all this about?" Dori asked, taking a set between the two other dwarfs. Nori shot Bofur a scathing looked while Bofur merely shrugged.

"Feyd?" Dori asked, "You're considering aligning yourself with Bul the handsome?"

Nori arched an eyebrow; "The handsome?" He questioned, and looking at Bofur asked: "Did you give him that moniker?"

Bofur, sipping some tea, cast Nori an offended expression; "Quiet!" He croaked, "And aye, Dori, Bul approached yer brother with the opportunity after he helped us figure some things out."

Dori ran a pudgy finger over his bearded upper lip and stared curiously at his sibling; "You realize what that would mean?" He said, "Once in…you're lucky to get out. Alive."

"You got out just fine," Nori replied, ignoring Bofur's wide-eyes.

"That's because Mummy died," Dori explained, "Ori was just a baby and you…well, you were…unable to care for him."

"You were in Feyd?" Bofur asked, "I would have never thought~"

"Nor would anyone think you or your sister was," Dori explained, "that's probably why you both are, in fact, operatives. By the way, I am sorry to hear about Boheeka's death. He was a good dwarf and He loved your mother."

Bofur pursed his lips yet said nothing on the subject. Instead he asked: "So ye got out alive? Because ye had yer kin to care for?"

Dori hesitated. "That's a bit true, but not entirely," He confessed, "There were…rumors. Well, accusations that had reached Thror and not even Kran~"

"Spinning tales again, Dori?" interrupted a voice at the entrance of the café. "I'm sure the lads don't care to here 'em!"

Bofur rolled his eyes and stood; "I wouldn't mind hearing them," He said, pulling his father's hat low onto his head, "They're just tales after all."

"You'd be happy to know that yer brother here helped us crack a difficult task," Bul said, ignoring Bofur's glare, "No doubt thanks to you and the knowledge you still hold from yer days as a fellow Feyd!"

Dori waved his hand dismissively; "He's a clever one," He explained, "He has to be, what with…how many warrants do you currently have, Nori?"

Nori groaned, rolled his eyes and stood just as the one He'd come to see walked out from one the back rooms behind the counter.

"Nori!" The young dwarf exclaimed and ran hard into his brother's arms; Bofur laughed at the sentimental scene while both Dori and Bul seemed quietly annoyed.

"Let's talk in the back, shall we?" Bul suggested, "I've much I need to discuss with you."

"Me?" Dori asked, and poked himself in the chest, "Why?"

Bul gestured toward the back, "It's private," He explained, "I'll tell ye everything then."

When they'd gone and Nori had released his little brother, Bofur readied himself to leave but not before saying to Nori: "Don't get offended by this but- eh- be careful what ye say about me, aye?"

Nori paused as he'd started to follow after Ori, who wanted to take him upstairs to where his room was and asked: "What do you mean?"

Bofur sniffed and jutted his thumb over his shoulder; "That crack ye made about Bul's nickname."

Nori formed and 'o' with his mouth but shrugged nonetheless; "Nothing to be ashamed of~"

"Dammit Nori just spare me tha' I got loads more to worry about at the moment!"

Before Nori could reply, Bofur bounded out of the café and headed home.


	13. Chapter 13: Tears and Trials

"So Nori's back in Ered Luin? Why didn't ye bring him by?"

Nola took Bofur's hat and cloak and waited for her elder brother to answer as she stowed them in the proper place.

"Oh, he came to visit with Ori," Bofur explained as he headed into the kitchen where Bombur was preparing the evening meal, "I'm sure he'll be by soon enough to see you an' Bombur."

"Bifur is goin' to throw a fit," Bombur said as he stirred a massive, boiling pot, "Ye know he's never liked that one!"

Nola chuckled, picking up a knife and chopping up vegetables; "True. Hopefully he'll have one or more of his silly knives on him! Last time Nori almost had his fingers bitten off!"

Bofur couldn't help but chuckle until Nola asked: "You weren't harmed were you? I heard about what that fool tried to do to you in the market place."

Bofur sighed and started to explain when his words stopped short and he quickly asked: "how'd ye know about tha'?"

Nola shrugged; "The same way I knew about Nori. Thorin told me when I took some lunch to him," She explained without looking at her elder sibling, "He says he'll speak to that oaf if you like."

"I can handle me own business, sis!" Bofur spat, "Why'd ye take him some food any ways?"

Nola sighed and stopped cutting up carrots long enough to look at her brother; "He likes Bombur's cooking," She explained, and she smiled when Bombur laughed triumphantly.

"Nola…Ye can't…Yer a commoner!" Bofur complained with an exasperated sigh.

Nola rolled her eyes, grabbed an onion and began to dice it up without looking up at her older brother.

"And he is an exiled King to whom I'm employed and who has helped us quite a lot recently!" Nola argued, "Bofur, please, like you just said I think I can handle my own business as well."

Bombur made a frightened sound as he watched his two siblings argue back and fourth, wondering if he should continue stirring the pot, or step out of the kitchen.

"Ye know they say he was a frequent visitor to the Madam Jinna's brothel, before you, right?" Bofur asked coldly, "Doesn't that…give ye some qualms?"

"No," Nola responded assuredly as she stopped chopping the onion and her fingers clasped the jewel hanging from her neck, "Because I'm not…Thorin has been nothing but a gentleman towards me. By the way, He says to let you and Bul know he will be by tomorrow, as planned."

Bofur tensed; looked from Nola and then at Bombur whom seemed delighted at the idea of Thorin coming for a visit. "Fine," He said, "Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll lay down fer a while."

Nola took a deep breath and nodded as she exhaled, her face suddenly contorting and she lurched for a moment.

"Are ye alright?" Bombur inquired, "Sis? Are ye sick?"

"N-no," Nola chuckled, "um…I think I'm going to uh, go to the apothecary."

"What? Why?" Bofur asked, and he noticed the agitation on his sister's face that often rose when he started being overly protective.

"Just to see how the old dwarf is managing," Nola replied as she hurried to the front door, "He gets rather flustered without any extra help. I'll be back shortly."

I.

"You know you still are one of the very best. Matter of fact, it was you that let Staric's little flunky know about the black rose root, right?"

Dori sighed and lifted the lid of the pot, checking the soup with only his eyes to judge its consistency, before closing the lid and removing the pot from its spot to cool.

"How'd you figure that out?" Dori asked as he wiped his hands on a towel that hung from his belt, "Let me guess…bribes and threats until you found your way here?"

Bul smiled proudly and nodded.

"Had I known why and for who the poison was to be used…" Dori's voice trailed off, "You think I helped kill my old comrade? I only thought I was helping Staric take care of an enemy."

"You did," Bul hummed, checking his face in the reflection of a shiny ladle, "You just didn't know it was meant for Boheeka and besides…Boheeka was always a fool."

Dori shot a narrowed glare at the dwarf whom only grinned; "Had he not been so overcome with grief…he'd still be here," Bul explained calmly, "But, even so, his death…the murder of Thorin's secret body guard…oh it gives us quite an opportunity."

Dori smirked; "us?" he said, "what are you playing at Bul? What do you want? Stop wasting my time."

Bul chuckled and hung the ladle back upon the hanging rack and, as he approached he ran his finger across the hanging utensils and whistled along with their noisy clanging.

"Somethin' big is comin'," He explained with a cold smile, "My operatives, obedient as they are, are still inexperienced…I need someone mature and since Boheeka is dead I~"

"No."

Bul snorted and leaned his head to the side; "Why not?" He asked, "I'm well aware you still take…contractual employment from time to time. When the restaurant business is slow, I mean. Matter of fact…I hear that's how Staric's family came to power all those years ago."

Dori sighed heavily and bowed his head; "I can't," He explained, "I don't want Ori ever thinking the things I did are a proper way of life! You have Nori no doubt he'll do anything for Bofur and Nola and that includes serving under your authority!"

"Exactly why I can't trust his loyalty," Bul pointed out, "He's loyal to them, not me. He'll serve me, obey my orders, but only fer their, and his own, benefit and besides, as I said, you could help them where weaponry is concerned."

Dori moaned and placed his hands on his hips as he cast his eyes down and thought for a moment.

Just as Bul thought he would have to threaten Dori with the information he had, pertaining to the poisonings of the first ruling family of Ered Luin, the dwarf nodded slowly.

"Very well," Dori agreed, "But no more than as a consultant and trainer."

Bul grinned wildly and he clapped his hands happily; "Excellent," He exclaimed, "Now…let me try that delicious smelling soup!"

II.

"Here, sit lass, it's nothin' to be frightened about."

Oin sat Nola in the comfortable arm chair in his office at the back of the apothecary and knelt beside the pale young dwarf woman.

"You're young and healthy," Oin pointed out as he patted Nola's trembling hand, "and Ye have a great family that will help ye."

A great shiver went through her and she bowed her head as tears began to fill her eyes.

"There, there," Oin said, and patted her trembling hands, "It's not a bad thing."

Nola sniffled; "I know," She explained lifting her head and wiping away a rogue tear, "I just wonder…if He'll want the baby."


	14. Chapter 14:Torn and Tickled

It was one the best gifts Thorin had presented to her.

As she smoothed the pony's mane, a small smile graced Nola's lips as she stepped back and closed the gate of the chute and prepared to head home for the evening.

"Oh, hello Nola," greeted a voice behind her. Cringing, Nola turned slowly and offered a bow to the dwarf woman, and a smile at the small dwarf child at her side.

"Lady Dis, how are you this evening?" Nola asked softly, "and how are you as well, Master Fili?"

The little boy smiled shyly and shrugged; Dis, however, observed Nola coldly; as she often did when Thorin was not near.

"I brought him to see the ponies," Dis explained, her free hand coasting down her swollen belly, "I, if it matters to you, I had to get some air."

Nodding once more, Nola began to take her leave, but Dis held up her hand for her to stop and wait.

"Your…your with child!" Dis gasped releasing Fili's little hand and coming inches from Nola, "aren't you?"

Nola, forgetting Bul's training, let her face deceive her and Dis let out an exasperated sigh.

"How could you possibly~"

"This," Dis explained tracing her finger down Nola's jaw so roughly she flinched, "you're hair fell out…as it will…when your two months along…am I right?"

"Excuse me," Nola said, "but I really must be heading home or Bofur will~"

"Why don't you…root it out?"

Nola jerked backward, her face one of shock and disgust while Dis kept her cold, cruel expression.

"It does not concern you!" Nola spat, her anger rising.

Dis moaned suspiciously, "How does he know it's his?" Dis asked and, knowing whom she spoke of, Nola's face reddened with anger yet she remained silent.

The Dwarf princess scowled in utter disgust; "You're feyd!" She hissed, "When there were women among their ranks…they were very, very professional…if you get my meaning."

Nola clenched her fists and tried to keep her voice level. "Please, let me pass, I must get home."

Dis put her hand up once again and Nola had to stop herself from pulling out the hidden dagger tucked up her sleeve.

Calming herself instead, she inhaled sharply and looked at Dis curtly; waiting for whatever it was the princess had in mind to say.

"My sons are the rightful heirs," Dis hissed, "Not your insignificant, accidental, Bas~"

"DIS!"

Dis yelped and spun around. "Uncle Thorin!" Fili cried and ran up to the officious dwarf whom took the boy by his tiny hand.

"Fili, be a good boy, and wait outside for a moment" Thorin ordered, and cast the boy a look when he started to protest.

When Fili had gone, Thorin's piercing eyes fell upon his sister.

"I'd forgotten," Thorin started softly as he approached, "How power hungry you are."

Dis swallowed and said nothing as she stepped aside so Thorin could come and stop beside Nola.

Thorin looked at Nola and when he was satisfied she was no longer distressed, turned to face Dis once more.

"Even with the loss of your husband"-Dis lowered her eyes-"even when you still wear the colors of mourning…you should be ashamed of yourself. Being that you're with child yourself I can't believe you would strive to upset Nola!"

"I was thinking only of you and my children!" Dis declared, "Of what…y-your affiliation with her would mean for us if we ever take back Erebor!"

"Your sons will remain in the line of succession," Thorin spat flatly and sternly, "Just as my own child will."

"You would humiliate the line of Durin then?" Dis questioned, "Thorin…she's the daughter of a killer and a killer in her own right!"

Thorin chuckled suddenly; "You've relied on childish gossip and cruel accusations," He pointed out, "Nola has since been relieved of her duties."

Dis opened her mouth to speak, but seeing the icy glare of her brother, bowed suddenly to Nola.

"Forgive me," She offered, and then with a shrug added: "hormones."

Nola nodded, said nothing, and without another word shared between the two women, Dis turned and hurried from the stable.

When she had gone, Thorin's large hand found purchase on Nola's abdomen, and he smiled to himself.

"What did Oin say?" He inquired, "Is everything alright?"

Nola nodded, knowing Thorin strove to help her forget the situation that had just occurred.

"He thinks the baby is a little big at the moment," She explained, "but other than that, he says everything is going along splendidly."

"Has Bofur started speaking to you?"

Nola's reply was a sigh and a shake of her head.

"I could speak with him," Thorin suggested, "he shouldn't be so cold to you."

"He'll come around on his own," She explained, "He's only worried after all. Deep down, I imagine, he's excited at being an uncle. As a matter of fact, he can't wait until Bombur and Sela start having their own."

"Have you given any thought to my question?" Thorin asked, tracing a finger down her soft cheek.

"Yes," Nola replied with a soft smile, and she let Thorin pull her close.

"Well?" Thorin pressed, and Nola broke into laughter as she pulled away and looked up at him.

"That was the answer," She said, "when I said 'yes,' that was my answer to your question."

"Oh!" Thorin chuckled, "Well, it's been a long day after all…Staric agreed to have a banquet for Durin's day, Dain's coming, and Bul's planned everything."

I.

"Quit yer squirmin'!" Bul snapped, and he tugged hard at the braid he was working, "It's Yer own damn fault!"

Nori huffed; "I liked my hair the way it was!" He griped, "I don't see why it had to be re-done!"

"Because," Bul mewled, "Yer supposed to be nothin' more than a server! A caterer from yer brother's restaurant and I can't have ye walkin' in all braided up like yer some kind o' royal! Now hold still!"

Nori growled when Bul gave him another tug and looked at Bofur whom sat across from them at the dining table, munching an apple and observing the situation with a smile.

"Shut up!" Nori said, and Bul jerked his head back into place, "Least you get to look posh!"

Bofur looked at his fine silk, green tunic and black trousers, and said with a mouthful of apple: "Imma muffian! Gora 'ook da par'!"

His hair clean and neatly braided in a perfect plait down to his shoulders, Bofur shrugged: "Learn to play an instrument," He advised after he swallowed, "Then ye won't be sufferin' so much!"

"Aye!" Bul agreed, "Nor will I! Bo, do ye have the guest list?"

Bofur rolled his eyes, reached inside his tunic and pulled out the tightly rolled parchment. Holding it up for Bul to see he said: "As always, kept it on me self ever since ye got it."

Bul smirked; "What are yer duties?"

Bofur rolled his eyes once more and took another bite of his apple.

"Well?" Bul demanded as he started to braid Nori's hair, "Tell me!"

"I'm a bloody flute player and I stay with the band!" Bofur spat, bits of apple flying from his mouth, "and I watch the people at table six because they're closest to where my arse will be sittin' and because they're blood related to Staric!"

"Very, very good!" Bul cooed, "I could've done without the dramatics but…eh! Now yer self, Nori?"

Nori winced as Bul pulled hard on his hair yet said: "Caterer, I mince with the c-crowd and-OW!-watch the other hall workers. OW! DAMMIT!"

Bul rolled his eyes, and looked over his shoulder at Bifur, shaking his head. "Styling hair," He explained, "Gettin' ready fer tonight."

Bifur's tired and glazed eyes looked down at Nori and he lifted his eyebrows; Bifur croaked,

Bul groaned and pushed Nori gently; "Get up and get dressed. Bofur, deal with 'im please."

Before anything could be done or said Bifur howled in rage and Nori barely had time to move as the wounded dwarf tackled Bul who gave a startled cry.

Bifur was growling and grunting savagely, his hands held tightly around Bul's neck and the other dwarf struggled and gagged desperately.

Bofur hurried over and, as he knew to do, gently wrapped his arms around Bifur's shoulders and began talking to him calmly in his ear; Delicately ordering him to calm down in their ancient tongue.

Bifur's eyes softened and he made a soft chirping sound; he let go of Bul quickly and the dwarf, hacking and gagging, wasted no time getting to his feet.

"Crazy feckin' fool!" Bul spat, "I told ye! I told ye a thousand times to be done with 'im!"

"It was my fault!" Nori argued, "I was crying out…you know what that causes him to do! I'm sorry Bofur!"

"BOFUR?" Bul shouted hoarsely, "I'm the one that got throttled."

Bifur offered softly, still held about his shoulders by Bofur,

Bofur sighed and squeezed Bifur by his shoulders, turning to lead him back to his room just as Nola appeared.

"Is Bifur alright?" She asked sleepily, "I heard shouting."

Bul groaned and rubbed his throat, muttering something nobody heard.

Bofur said nothing as he led Bifur past Nola, and his sister's face dropped and she sighed deeply.

As Nori rose, he gestured at Bul, "He had a go at Bul," He explained, "Just another fit is all. You should go on to bed, you look tired."

Nola smiled softly, thanked Nori and headed back to her room just as Bofur reappeared; An amused smile on his face as he watched Bul cough and rub his throat.

"Tha's a first," He pointed out, "normally He has a go at Nori!"

Nori chuckled and turned to look at Bul. "I feel so close to you right now!"

The two young dwarves burst out in laughter while Bul sneered angrily at both of them;

"He coulda killed me!" He snapped, only to be drowned out by tight lipped chuckles, "'ave ye even thought of Nola? What if he hurts her?"

Bofur grew quiet suddenly and Nori sucked in his breath; knowing full well what argument if any, was about to ensue.

"Well," Bofur offered, "He, Thorin I mean, could do the right thing and wed her."

Bul groaned and waved a hand at Bofur; "Never mind," He griped, "Just…just go and get our purses!"

"What?" Bofur persisted, "too much to ask of our dear king? I guess, since he is after all royalty, he can just lay with whomever he pleases and not honor the lass later? It's alright to leave 'er all by herself and let others call 'er a whore while she comes home to someone that, though not all his fault, could harm 'er and his baby!"

"Bo," Nori said, trying to calm the situation, "Come on…she's trying to rest and we're wasting time. The banquet is set to start in a few hours and we've got to go and speak with Thorin any ways."

"Agreed," Bul sighed, "Now, be a good lad, and get the damn purses!"

II.

"Are ye sure it was a wise choice? Employing them I mean?"

Thorin, sipping his wine thoughtfully, slowly nodded. "They've yet to let me down after all," He explained, "Besides, Balin, you know of them back from your days in Erebor. My grandfather regarded them highly."

Balin said nothing to this and looked to where Thorin was staring.

Where the orchestra was assembled, the old dwarf lord observed the one in the green silk tunic, fiddling with a flute.

"He's one of them, isn't he?" Balin asked under his breath, "Either that or you've given up on females."

Thorin gagged on his wine and looked at Balin with wide eyes; "of-of course not!" Thorin hissed, "as a matter of fact I'm going to be…"

"Yes?" Balin asked. Thorin waved his hand; "Later," He explained, "But, between you and I, yes. His name is Bofur-eh-Boheeka's son. Ever heard of him? Boheeka I mean."

Balin sighed and nodded; "Yes," He answered, "Kran, the old leader, adored Boheeka…a fine young dwarf wholly devoted to Thror until he wed and, apparently, had children. Whatever became of him?"

Thorin's eyes darkened; "Dain didn't tell you?" He asked, "You…you never got word?"

Balin jolted in surprise and asked: "My diplomacy keeps me quite occupied. What's this all about?"

"Balin," Thorin started, then took a large gulp of wine, "I regret to inform you that…Boheeka died…not long after his wife."

Balin's eyes grew dark; "So sad," He observed, "even while an operative he was an honorable fellow."

"They all are," Thorin argued peacefully, "Especially his daughter."

From across the way, from he sat, Bofur was bored beyond description. The night was going well; most of Staric's kin were too drunk to be considered any danger and, Bofur wondered, if Bul had meant for that to be the case as Nori had made sure their goblets never got too empty.

Every once in a while Nori would make an aggravated face, causing Bofur to smile and forget the troubles that weighed in his mind at the moment.

"Do you play professionally?"

Bofur turned and his breath caught in his throat; a dwarf, not much older than he, smiled kindly his smile lit his dark blue eyes as he waited for Bofur to answer.

"Uh…n-no," Bofur stammered, "I-uh-I'm fillin' in fer the night."

The dwarf nodded and set his violin aside; "May I?" he asked, and extended his hand.

Bofur looked at his flute before handing it over to the dwarf and He watched him study his instrument.

"Very nice," the dwarf observed, "you made this?"

"Me father," Bofur corrected, "When I was born…he taught me to play."

The dwarf, his sandy blonde hair hanging loose and past his shoulders, handed it back to Bofur with an adoring smile.

"Sweet," He offered, "I'm Sol by the way. I traveled here with Dain. He's picky about who plays during festivities and being that I'm his music director…here I am."

"Bo," Bofur said, then shook his head, "I mean Bofur…my friends and kin call me Bo though. So…ye supplied the sheet music?"

The one called Sol, nodded; "like I said," He explained and gestured toward the burly, rough looking dwarf next to Thorin, "Picky. Music soothes the savage beast; especially when it's to his liking."

Bofur grinned and chuckled, enjoying the joyful feeling that had long since alluded him, and nodded at Thorin.

"He doesn't seem to share Dain's interest," He observed, "been scowlin' all night!"

Sol chuckled and picked up his violin again; "that would be Thorin Oakenshield, correct?" He asked, "I've heard of him. Handsome fellow, whose the woman with him his wife?"

Bofur snorted; "His sister," He explained, "Dis is 'er name. He's unwed but has a nephew, Fili."

"Ah!" Sol mused, "and you Mister Bofur? Have you a wife or children?"

Bofur shook his head quickly; "I take care of my siblings is all," He explained, "Which means a lot of work and little play."

"I'd imagine, being a toymaker, you'd want children of your own," Sol pointed out with a soft smile, "But I know what you mean. I've no wife of child either."

Bofur nodded just before noticing Bul gesture toward him from his hiding place and he sighed; it was time.

"Eh, excuse me but I've got a…wait…I never told ye I was a toymaker."

Sol, tuning his violin, hesitated briefly before breaking into an embarrassed smile. "Forgive me," He confessed, "but-eh-I-I inquired about you when I saw you enter the great hall."

Something warmed in Bofur's stomach and he nodded; "'s alright," He offered softly, "but fer now, I've got to go and chat with someone."

He met up with Bul and Nori, in the afore mentioned, torch lit corridor that would lead them to the balcony of the mansion; there, Bofur assumed, they would find him waiting.

"Where's Thorin?" Bofur inquired impatiently, "He should have been here by now and I doubt Staric is gonna wait much longer."

Bul, lighting his pipe, shrugged off Bofur's complaint. "We stick to the plan," He said through a cloud of blue-grey smoke, "Anythin' else and we loose everythin'."

"How do we know Staric doesn't have guards? Someone watching us right now?" Nori asked, tugging at his single braid, "This all seems too easy!"

Bul chuckled and inhaled another puff of smoke from his pipe. "ye can thank yer brother fer that," He explained, "Whatever guards Staric had mindin' the corridors, just in case, Dori made sure they got a pleasant meal. They'll wake later with no idea of what's happened."

Nori chuckled and cast Bofur an astonished look to which the latter dwarf smirked.

"Dori's here?" Nori asked, and Bul shook his head, "Took his leave earlier," He explained, "He's from the old days and we couldn't risk Balin recognizing him and growin' suspicious~"

"Let us finish this," Thorin said in a sharp, soft tone as he approached. Looking at Bul, then toward the stair case he asked: "Are you ready?"

Bul nodded and tapped the ash out of his pipe before wrapping it and stowing it away. "Nori," He ordered, "Stay here and keep watch. Bo, yer with us."

Nori nodded at Bofur and mouthed 'good luck.' Bofur smiled and followed behind Bul and Thorin and quickly ascended the stair case and out onto the stone balcony.

Staric turned slowly as the three of them made themselves known and his stubby nose crinkled.

"Took you three long enough!" He snapped, turning and leaning his back against the stone wall, "I almost gave up. What is it that you want? And do be quick about because I hear that Madam Jinna has supplied a lovely array of her best ladies!"

Bul snorted while Thorin sneered. Bofur however, at the sight of him, felt a familiar rage growing inside of him.

Bul approached Staric quickly, extended a fist inches from the stewards face and said: "Well, an explanation would be good. Revenge is even better though."

Bul turned his fist up and opened it; Staric looked at the trinket in his hand, and very slowly met the dwarf's twinkling coal black eyes.

"Did ye watch him die?" Bul asked, and Bofur stirred uncomfortably behind him, "After ye swore ye would leave well enough alone?"

Staric chuckled and slapped Bul's hand away so suddenly that Bofur lurched, his right hand; going for his left sleeve only to be stopped short of pulling his blade by Thorin.

"A braid bead?" Staric questioned, "How do you know it was not planted?"

Bul gave a wry smile and looked over his shoulder at Thorin whom nodded at him to continue; "Because we spoke to the one that subdued Boheeka," He explained calmly, then his eyes went very dark and he asked in a hiss, "Yer still such a coward that ye had yer flunky shoot a dart into Boheeka's back while his grief distracted him. What kind of ruler are ye?"

Staric blinked, fidgeted for a moment and then looked over Bul's shoulder at the two other dwarves.

"Wh-what flunky?" He demanded, "I don't know of whom you speak!"

Bul grabbed Staric by the shoulders and spun him violently; poking a finger over Staric's stiff shoulder he acknowledged the outline of the forest that surrounded Ered Luin.

"The one I buried out there four days ago!" He explained, almost joyfully, "I spoke to the one who gave ye the black rose poison…found yer flunky and…well, his usefulness ran out rather quickly, ye see."

Stepping back, Bul allowed the dwarf lord to spin around and observe the three of them again; obviously his mind was racing with what to say next.

"Dain informed me, as he promised me he would," Thorin explained, "Of the many secret letters you sent to him. Begging for his help one last time….in one more attempt to murder me. Not even a promise of Erebor's fortune dissuaded you?"

Staric swallowed hard and slowly shook his head. Bul laughed in amazement and clapped Staric on his shoulder. "Now that's ballsy!" He chuckled, "Finally admittin' to bein' a cold blooded killer all fer the promise of more wealth than what was first promised! I'm impressed!"

"Bul," Thorin said, his voice harboring impatience, "Please…others will start to wonder if we take much longer."

Staric's eyes widened; "You can't!" He spat shrilly, "I've got guards everywhere! A-and the suspicion that will come against you, Thorin, there's no way~"

"Ach! Now yer just bein' annoying!" Bul griped, "Calm yer self! If we meant to kill ye we would have done so long ago. Thorin…get on with it."

Thorin looked at Staric, his piercing blue eyes studying him deeply for a moment he breathed one word without hesitation: "Abdicate."


	15. Chapter 15: End of Affairs

"Argh! Be more careful damn it! That stings!"

Oin grunted and continued suturing Thorin's wound; "Hold still," He advised, "This stab wound almost hit an artery. Your very lucky your majesty."

Thorin moaned and sat patiently atop the kitchen table; looking at those whom stood before him in the kitchen.

"This could have gone better," He said to Bul, whom smoked his pipe and kept his eyes cast to the cobble stone floor.

"And no this was not the plan," Thorin said to both Balin and Dain, both of whom looked rather frustrated.

'Where did Bofur go?" Thorin demanded, "Is it wise to let him go?"

Bul lifted his eyes, they shone eerily in the torch light, and to Thorin's surprise the _feyd_ captain chuckled dryly.

"More 'n likely he ran straight home. What he did…it's probably got 'im terrified."

Thorin snorted; "I'm not so much concerned about him," He explained as he watched Oin stitch his wound, "Rather…I'm more concerned with what went wrong."

Bul laughed and finished his pipe. "Fergive me my lord but-eh-it's gone quite well from where I'm standin'. The whole of Ered Luin is now yours after all."

Thorin scoffed while both Balin and Dain exchanged looks of shock and disbelief.

"I cannot possibly put myself up for election now!" Thorin explained, wincing as Oin finished another stitch, "There would be too much scandal!"

"Don't forget," Dain pointed out, "I cannot support his ascension now as it would in danger my own kingdom and reputation."

"I told you Thorin!" Balin declared, "It was an ill idea to begin with! Hiring a guild of assassins!"

Bul burst into maniacal laughter and, while it took a moment to compose himself, He looked over all the startled faces that observed him. Save for Oin whom was without his hearing aide and continued to treat Thorin without interruption.

"First of all," Bul explained gleefully, "Staric made to kill ye, Bofur stopped him, and ye have me and 'im to vouch fer yer innocence if need be."

Turning to Dain and Balin, Bul continued:

"I am very sure Thorin is willing to hear the terms that ye might have, Dain, just name them. As fer this guild ye despise, Balin, I'm sure ye'll recall the many, many times we served our King loyally in Erebor; and we're only assassins when ordered to be by our lords. We cover a wide array of services…if ye aren't too old to remember that is."

Though his eyes narrowed, Balin nonetheless, remained silent and turned to bow at Thorin before dismissing himself for the evening.

"Well?" Bul asked, looking at Dain, "go ahead."

Dain scratched the side of bald head before casting Bul a quizzical look; "What?" he asked, "Go ahead with what?"

"Go on," Bul urged, "I saw ye when it was announced that the banquet was over because Staric had died. Ye took a sip of wine."

Dain incline his head; "So?" he said, "I was thirsty."

"You were relieved," Bul corrected, "most of the guests were in a panic, their lord was dead and Thorin was stabbed. Most were hurrying out of the hall, away from danger, while others rushed to see what had happened

However, you slouched in your chair, and sipped wine pleasantly. No doubt because ye now knew that an opportunity arose fer ye to finally make mention of some more terms ye've had in mind to present to Thorin probably before ye even arrived in the Blue Mountains ."

Dain looked at Thorin whom was dismissing Oin. "He does that a lot," Thorin explained after Oin had departed and as he began putting his tunic back on, "rather ingenious if not a tad annoying. Still, no doubt he's right and you want to offer another…term; so, I ask you cousin, speak."

Dain hesitated before finally confessing: "I have but one term."

**I.**

"Bofur…he killed Daddy and even tried to hurt Thorin! Ye did nothing wrong!"

Bofur, his head down, stared blankly at his open hands, trying to make sense of all that had occurred just hours before.

Nori was leaned against the hearth, puffing away on his pipe in deep thought, While Nola tried desperately to appease her brother's suffering.

"I…never thought I could ever…I just reacted; turned his bloody head around like it was nothin'. I'm a murderer."

"No," Nori sighed, a puff of smoke exiting from his parted lips, "You killed in service to the king. You saved Thorin's life."

Bofur moaned, shut his eyes tight, and shook his head as the scenario played over again and again in his tired mind.

"I just…I never thought that I'd~"

"Don't be shy, lad! Just say it! Ye enjoyed it!" exclaimed a joyful voice from behind the three of them.

All three younger dwarves rolled their eyes as Bul let out a guffaw of pure joy, and plopped down in the chair adjacent from the one Bofur slumped in.

"Whew!" Bul chortled, pointing a finger at Bofur, "I never thought ye had it in ye until tonight! Ha, ha! My dear boy you'll make a fine _feyd_ captain one day!"

"Fuck you!" Bofur growled, yet Bul only giggled and, when Nola glared at him, He asked: "How's the little one?"

Nola, rising from where she'd knelt beside her brother, sniffed and said: "Little."

"Ah, well, aye o'course little…any problems?"

Nola eyed Bul suspiciously for a moment before shaking her head.

"Good," Bul sighed, "It's very, very important my dear, that you take the greatest care…if ye want to remain in Thorin's good graces. It will benefit us all in the end."

Nola looked at Bofur whom gave her just as much a confused expression as she did him, then looked at Nori whom busied him self with emptying his pipe.

"What do ye mean?" She asked, "Since when do ye care so much? When ye first found out about the baby ye insisted it would end everything you hoped to achieve."

Bul sighed very deeply, rose and came very close to Nola. Taking her hand gingerly he explained: "I could tell Thorin loved ye the moment he saw ye lass, believe me. But after tonight…with how it all ended, he had to agree to something in order to gain Dain's support of his taking control of Ered Luin."

Nola pulled her hand free from Bul's and backed away; Bofur had risen, and putting an arm around his youngest siblings shoulder's, asked: "What's goin' on Bul? What 'ave ye done now?"

Bul snorted and with narrow eyes spat: "I've done nothin' but agree to let Nola know that tomorrow Thorin will come to call on 'er. Ye see, the circumstances, being as they are… it's been agreed that Thorin will soon marry."

"WHAT? He should very well be marryin' me sister after all! She's carryin' his baby!"

Bul, taking a single finger, poked it into Bofur's heaving chest, and urged him gently away from him. "Sit, both of you," He ordered, looking at Nola he nodded toward the sofa. "Sit…calm down. Ye know ye shouldn't be gettin' yer self all worked up."

Bofur, guiding Nola gently, took a seat next to his sister as she buried her face in her hands and began to weep quietly.

"He still loves ye lass," Bul explained as assuredly as he could, "He was quite adamant about tha'. It's only fer political reasons he agreed. She won't take yer place in his life."

"This is all yer fault," Bofur seethed, throwing an arm over his sisters trembling shoulders, "Ye shoulda talked 'im outta it!"

Bul chuckled; "I might have been able to," He pointed out, "But yer the one that snapped Staric like a twig…desperate measures had to be taken."

"I did tha' because he made to strike Thorin down!" Bofur asserted, "Yer the one that stabbed Thorin after!"

"STABBED HIM?" Nola shrieked, looking up in angry astonishment, "Y-ye stabbed Thorin?"

"I gave him a quick nip," Bul corrected, "a mere flesh wound."

Nola wretched suddenly, clapping her hands over her mouth, she leapt up and hurried out of the room.

"Good job," Bofur said sarcastically as he rose, "I'm goin' to bed."

"Wait," Bul ordered, and with a huff, Bofur stopped and waited without turning to look at the _feyd_ captain.

"Fer what its worth," Bul started, "I'm proud of ye. Ye avenged yer family and impressed the king. I know yer havin' trouble accepting it but soon you'll find…it gets easier."

Bofur, taking a very deep breath, exhaled slowly and announced: "I don't want to find out how easy it gets."

He left Bul in the silence and firelight of the den.

**II.**

"Nola, please, I bid you to wait! Nola!"

Nola, carrying her basket of purchased foods, tried desperately to shut out the pleas, and pushed her way through the market place with Thorin fast on her heels.

She'd avoided meeting him, much to Bul's protestrations, and had busied her self longer than necessary in the market place.

It was to no avail, however, as Thorin had spotted her on his way back from the home she shared with her family, and had since chased her through the crowds.

Giving in to his pleas at last, Nola emitted a trembling sigh, finally stopping, and she was soon face to face with the one that had desperately followed after her.

Thorin, sweaty and his hair a mess, struggled to catch his breath and went to take Nola's free hand; his expression was pained when she jerked her hand away.

"No," He gasped, "Please don't act this way! Nola, it means nothing to me! It's only to satiate Dain!"

Nola sighed, swallowed the rising bile, and said: "Thorin…what if she comes to love you?"

Thorin shook his head and shrugged; "I've already given my heart," He explained, "She will have to accept that!"

Nola scoffed and as she chuckled, began her trek home; still, Thorin refused to be deterred and followed after her.

"You accepted my offer," He pointed out, thumping into passerbys without apology, "Why do you now seem so unsatisfied now?"

Nola flopped her arms, almost dropping her basket, and said without looking behind her: "Because I didn't expect this! What will people think of you or me or, far more importantly, our child?"

Thorin stumbled, nearly falling, and Nola turned swiftly and caught him by his shoulders; even though they'd been careful in public before, the two of them stood clutching one another for a moment.

A deep, unspoken longing was exchanged between the two of them.

"I can't…I don't want to be responsible for the humiliation of that other woman," Nola confessed, jerking free of Thorin, "and I don't wish to confuse this child anymore than I know he or she will be. I'm sorry Thorin…but I have to refuse the title you offered me."

"You're leaving me?" Thorin demanded, "What about the child?"

"I expect you to do your duty to the fullest of your capabilities," Nola answered, "Good day to you."

"Nola!" Thorin protested and grabbed her arm; Nola, tears in her eyes, turned and stared deeply into Thorin's.

"Congratulations on your marriage," She said, "Now please…let me go."

Thorin slowly let his hand drop and watched Nola disappear into the busying crowd; all the while, he stood in stunned silence as though he was the only person in the world.


End file.
